


Ember

by Kaibutsu_of_Shinjuku (Lightningpelt)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Shizu-chan makes for an adorable kid even given the circumstances, time for Izaya to reevaluate some things...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4373474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightningpelt/pseuds/Kaibutsu_of_Shinjuku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Shinra, by a stroke of mad-scientist genius, de-ages Shizuo by almost fifteen years, Izaya ends up as temporary guardian of a very displeased little monster. But that label, "monster," starts to take on a whole new meaning as the child's scars also regress, becoming open wounds once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-post from the DRRR!! Kink Meme on Live Journal. Check out the original prompt ["here"](http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/7084.html?thread=26284716#t26284716). Couldn't pass it up, like seriously. 
> 
> **Blanket warning for descriptions of (physical and emotional) child abuse and the effects thereof.** Does not contain descriptions of pedophilia (although one or two of the more vague flashbacks may be taken that way). 
> 
> Next chapter to follow soon, but for now here's the (somewhat silly) prologue. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy! <3

  
_“Tender Ember_

_...Barred and branded_  
to be forever unloved  
I was a tender ember  
seeking solace from above...”  
― Muse (Poet), Enigmatic Evolution 

"I'm going to kill you later, Shinra."

"Right. And then you'll have _no_ friends."

The doctor smiled sweetly up at Izaya, who glared back from his uncomfortable seat on the examination table. Earlier that very morning, he had been happily negotiating with Shiki regarding the alteration of a certain confidential file. But one kidnapping later— a kidnapping that Celty had been slightly too pleased to carry out —he had found himself an unwilling test subject in Shinra's lab.

"If it works, I'll be able to turn you right back!" Shinra said, slightly imploringly.

"And if it doesn't work?" Izaya asked dryly; Shinra's smile cracked just a bit.

"Well... we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it, right? B-But I'm 82% sure it'll work out just fine!"

Izaya's eyes narrowed. "82%, Shinra? Really? Human trials at 82%?"

The doctor's smile weakened. "83?"

Izaya sighed, then looked down helplessly at his bound wrists. "I guess I don't have much of a choice anyway, do I?" he asked resignedly, and the doctor's eyes brightened.

"Not exactly!"

Again Izaya sighed, then inclined his head. "Go on then, go on. What's the worst that could happen?"

Shinra clapped his hands excitedly, letting out a little cheer as he hurried to the control panel. Celty appeared at his shoulder to watch, and Izaya shifted into a more comfortable position.

"You're turning me right back if this works, got it?"

"Of course! I'll run a few tests and turn you right back!"

"N-No, Shinra, not a few—"

"Right! A few tests and I'll—"

"Shinra—!"

But the argument was cut off prematurely by a banging on the apartment door. Shinra ignored it, even if Izaya and Celty both looked up.

"Shouldn't you—?" Izaya began, but Shinra gave a little yelp as he pressed a final button.

"Sequence initiated!" he announced, an evil gleam in his eyes. "No stopping it now!"

Celty and Izaya both bristled at the sound of a door being torn off its hinges.

"Iiiii... zaaa... yaaa..."

"Oh shit." Izaya went white, then tugged anxiously at his restraints. "Shinra... Shinra, let me out...! Shinra, Shinra _now_...!"

"No can do!" the doctor chirped, leaning lackadaisically on the control panel. "The process can't be stopped now, anyway. I'd stop struggling, if I were you. Those restraints can even hold Shizuo if need be, so you'll only manage to bruise your wrists."

"You're a sick bastard, Shinra...!" Izaya gave a strained laugh, trying to get his feet under him and finding it impossible with the restraints. "I'm really going to get you for this one...!"

Shinra smiled serenely as the machines began to hum. "Sorry, Iza-chan. But I'll make sure Shizuo doesn't take advantage, I promise." He held up his right hand in a mock pledge. "On my honor."

"Fuck you..." Izaya said weakly, even as the angry footsteps grew closer to the lab. Celty moved to the door just as one Shizuo Heiwajima burst through, murder gleaming in his eyes.

"Found you," he growled, upon spotting Izaya. Ignoring Celty completely, he strode towards the experimental apparatus.

"Shizuo, I'm glad you're here!" Shinra called, moving to intercept him. "You're just in time to— whoa!" the doctor exclaimed as Shizuo picked him up— gently, to his credit —and set him down to the side, "W-Wait...!"

"Shinra...!" Izaya called out anxiously, aware of the increased humming from the machines as Shizuo approached him. "Shinra, do something...!"

"Shizuo, you really shouldn't—!" Shinra tried, but not quite in time. The blonde had mounted the platform where the examination table sat, approaching Izaya with a truly evil smile on his face and heedless of the noise from the machinery.

"How convenient. Thanks for the early birthday present, Shinra."

Shizuo tore through the restraints as if they were tissue paper, although only so far as to free the information broker from the table; he made sure they stiff functioned as makeshift handcuffs, taking both ends in one hand and holding them like a leash. Izaya, finally able to get to his feet to put up _some_ token of resistance, glared at Shinra over Shizuo's head.

"They can 'even hold Shizuo?'" he asked flatly, and the doctor shrugged.

"It isn't as if I've ever _tried_ to hold Shizuo. I'm not completely mad."

"That's entirely up for debate," Izaya said with an unamused laugh, hands held up as they were by the improvised bonds. The control panel Shinra was stationed beside gave a sudden and furious beeping, and Izaya used the momentary distraction to twist like a cat in Shizuo's grip. His feet clamped around the blonde's wrist, jerking hard enough to make a startled Shizuo loosen his grip on the restraints for a split second. That was all Izaya needed to slip away, although not unchallenged; with a roar, Shizuo grabbed the exam table and lifted it, ignoring Shinra's shouted warning.

The machines sizzled to life, firing a strange white light from either side just as Shizuo launched the metal table. Izaya dived out of the way of both the Ray of Death and projectile furniture, but Shizuo was a bit less lucky. He noticed his unfortunate location a fraction of a second too late, and the strange bolt of energy hit him in the same instant that the table smashed through a whole bank of machinery.

Shinra gasped with excitement as smoke filled the lab. Celty, alternatively, ran for the fire extinguisher.

"Hoooo...!" Izaya exclaimed, waving one hand near his face to keep the smoke at bay. "Glad I wasn't a part of that!"

"There wouldn't have been any explosion if not for the thrown table!" Shinra said defensively.

Celty reappeared with the fire extinguisher in hand, although she panicked and ended up bathing herself in foam before managing to direct it toward the smoking equipment. Shinra crept cautiously out from behind the control panel he was still hiding behind.

"Shizuo...?" the doctor called hesitantly, then craned his neck as the smoke began to clear. "Shizuo? Can you hear me?"

In the next heartbeat, an alarmingly heavy medical book was flung out from the haze. Shinra yelped, just barely dodging it as the wrecked platform finally became visible.

"What the hell did you do to me?!"

His voice was shockingly squeaky, and Izaya choked on a laugh. Shizuo Heiwajima, a familiar expression of rage plastered across his face, tried to storm forward... only to trip over his far too-long pant legs, falling flat on his face.

This time, Izaya _burst out_ laughing. But above the laughter came a single, cheering shout from Shinra as the doctor threw his hands up.

"It worked!"


	2. Enough for Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos so far, they really do mean the world to me! The new chapter is already here, so I hope you enjoy~~

Izaya Orihara had the most asinine smirk on his face as he took in the the truly beautiful sight before him. It was Shizuo, undoubtedly— his Shizuo, undoubtedly, recognizable despite his unfamiliar brunette locks.

It was a very _young_ , very _confused_ Shizuo. 

The boy couldn't have been older than nine or ten, blinking dazedly as he pushed himself upright. His clothes were several times too large for him, bow tie hanging like a necklace and sleeves enveloping his hands completely. The pant legs were only one part of what had tripped him; the other was his now-massive shoes, lying where he had stepped out of them on the platform.

Once Izaya started to laugh, he simply couldn't stop.

"It worked!" Shinra cheered again, hopping excitedly before racing up to where Shizuo was pushing himself up. "How do you feel? Are your organs intact? Do you feel lightheaded or nauseous? Any tremors? Any heart palpitations (because those could be life threatening, please tell me if you have any)?"

"Shut up!" Shizuo snapped, in that jarringly squeaky voice. Shinra took a cautious step back as the child managed to get to his feet, seeming to have the presence of mind to hold his pants up... or at least his plaid boxers, as his pants were hopelessly pooled around his feet. He closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head as if disoriented. "What the hell...?!"

Celty was the one to approach without hesitation. "Are you alright, Shizuo?" she held up, crouching down so that she was at his level. An instant calm overcame the child, and he nodded.

"I think so..." he replied, then looked down at where his sunglasses had fallen. "What happened?"

"An experiment gone very, very right!" Shinra yelped, motioning to the mass of wrecked metal and fire-extinguishing goop. "Behold! I've successfully turned back the hands of time! And by about fifteen years, from the looks of it!"

"Fifteen... what?" Shizuo spluttered, then turned back to the dullahan. "What's this guy talking about, Celty?"

Shinra blinked, coming around so that he was still in Shizuo's line of sight. "Wait... do you know who I am?" he asked, pointing at himself. Izaya had fallen silent.

The boy's young face scrunched. "Kinda..." he muttered, then scratched the back of his neck. "You're my friend, right? You're... yeah. A friend."

"But you don't remember my name?" Shinra pressed, and Shizuo turned to Celty.

"Why does he have to be such a pushy jerk about it?" he asked the dullahan angrily; Celty only shrugged.

"What about him?" Shinra pressed, pointing to a very closely observing Izaya.

"Flea," Shizuo answered promptly, and Shinra snorted. The child thought for another moment, then said, "Izaya. I don't like him."

"That's about right," Shinra said amusedly, shaking his head.

"But he's..." Shizuo continued, then fell silent. Izaya cocked his head.

"I'm what, Shizu-chan?" he asked, and the child looked away.

"Forget it." He turned, pointing at the doctor. "And you're Shinra. I remember. It's a little fuzzy, but I remember."

"What do you mean by 'fuzzy?'" Shinra asked eagerly, still crouched down. "Can you be more specific?"

Shizuo's small face scrunched, but he answered after a moment of thought. "They're... backwards. My memories. The new ones are all faded and sketchy, but the childhood ones..." And he trailed off with a strange shiver that went unnoticed by the excited doctor.

"This is all incredibly interesting..." Shinra mused, then clapped his hands and stood. "Well, the good news is that my De-age-inator worked, and with only a couple of unexpected side-effects!" he chirped, skipping over to the machine. "The bad news is, half of it was destroyed in the process!"

"That means you won't be able to turn me back, doesn't it?" Shizuo asked flatly, and the doctor shook his head.

"Well... yes. But only for now," Shinra continued quickly. "I can rebuild the De-age-inator without much of a problem, but it'll take time. You'll just have to stay with Celty and I until I can get it worked out! Good thing I'm a doctor, so I'll be able to deal with any unexpected health issues that pop up." 

But the color had drained from Shizuo's small face, and he began to shake his head. "Th-Thanks, but no thanks..." he said, backing away slowly and almost tripping again. Celty moved to put a steadying hand on his back, but he flinched from her touch.

"Why not?" Shinra asked, but Shizuo moved to grab the leg of a nearby lab table and bent it easily in his grip.

"I said I don't want to...!" His voice was young, but somehow still dripping that Shizuo-exclusive brand of danger. Shinra immediately put up his hands.

"Fine! If not with us, though, who? You can't live alone, not until we get this sorted out. Are you going to call your brother?"

If it was possible, Shizuo paled even further. "He can't know about this... Kasuka can't... he can't know..."

"So where will you stay, Shizuo?" Celty asked, the words on her screen somehow seeming gentle. The child calmed a bit just at the sight of her, but then whipped around.

"Him."

Izaya stiffened, briefly considering a confused "who, me?" look over his shoulder but discarding it as a cheap gag. So instead he just said, "You can't be serious."

But Shizuo nodded determinedly. "Yeah. I'll stay with you, Flea. And you better say yes, or I'll catch you and kill you with my own hands."

Shinra broke into peals of laughter, even as Izaya crossed his arms. "You can't be serious, Shizu- _brat_ ," he repeated, but then the child was storming towards him. He only managed a single backwards step before a tiny hand knotted in his pant leg.

"I'm staying with you, got it?"

Shinra continued to laugh, even as Izaya's lip curled back in a cruel smile. "No need to get suicidal over a little de-aging, now," he said, but the child only shook his head.

"I'm staying with you."

Izaya shot a distasteful look at Shinra, still chuckling softly at the situation, and then looked to Celty imploringly. But the dullahan only shrugged.

"If that's what he wants..." Shinra said, then held up his hands as Izaya fixed a murderous gaze on him. "Hey, I offered! He doesn't want to stay with us!"

"What about Tom?" Izaya asked, a bit desperately. But Shizuo shook his head.

"I can't tell Tom, either... no, I can't tell anyone." His eyes were distant, and Izaya knew with a sinking certainty that his mind was made up. "I'll stay with you, Flea."

"Alright, fine!" Izaya relented, throwing up his hands. "Just let go of my pants before you pull them down, Shizu-brat!"

Shizuo obeyed, taking a couple of shuffling steps back. Izaya looked him up and down briefly, then sighed.

"Alright, fine," he repeated. "But you better have this sorted out _within the week_ ," he added to Shinra, who only smiled.

"I'll do my best! No guarantees, though. I can't afford a mistake in reassembly when it's Shizuo's life on the line."

"I don't care if he survives, just as long as he's out of my hair," Izaya shot back, with an unpleasant sneer. "So by all means, cut corners. Just get the thing back in working order."

,,, ,,, ,,,

Izaya huffed with effort as he shifted the boy on his back.

It was going to be a long walk home.

"This is going to sound strange, Namie, but hear me out."

The girl gave a put-upon sigh. "Go on."

He had called her from Shinra's apartment. "Go online and order an extra futon, same-day delivery. Then run down to the store and pick me up three sets of young boy's clothing, just generic large size out of the kid's section. Shoes too, probably a size... seven, kids' size?"

"... Did you kidnap a child?" Namie asked flatly, and Izaya chuckled.

"No I did not," he quipped, then continued, "And now this is important: I want you to use the _blue_ bank card tucked under the potted plant on my desk, got it? The blue one."

"... You've never had me use that card before."

"It's linked to Shinra's account," Izaya said flippantly. "I only use it in emergencies he helped to create."

"Ah. Alright then."

"And make enough dinner for two tonight."

"... You _did_ kidnap a kid, didn't you?"

"Not exactly!" the information dealer protested. "I didn't ask for this and I sure as hell don't want it! It just kind of... fell into my lap."

"Considering we're talking about a little boy, I hope you realize how wrong that sounds," Namie said dryly, and Izaya gave an unamused laugh.

"Fuck off, my dear."

"With pleasure." And she hung had up on him.

Izaya groaned good-naturedly as he remembered the conversation, hefting the child slightly higher on his back. Shizuo grunted at being shifted, his grip tightening around Izaya's neck.

"Don't choke me, Shizu-brat," the information dealer huffed, and the child obligingly loosened his arms.

"Sorry."

Shizuo had been surprisingly mellow since Celty had dropped them off at the outskirts of Shinjuku. Not wanting to draw attention to the strange child still dressed in ill-fitting bartender's clothes, Izaya had volunteered his back to the brunette. He had half expected Shizuo to refuse, but the child had hardly hesitated to climb atop him and settle in for the ride.

Izaya sighed softly, trying to ignore the stares they were attracting despite his best efforts to keep them nondescript. He figured that it wasn't all that common a sight, much less for those who knew him and his business.

_Why me...?_

Shizuo had been so insistent; it didn't make sense. In fact, it was enough of a mystery to make Izaya play along out of sheer curiosity. The bartender-turned-debt-collector _had_ always fascinated him after all, whether he would admit that or not.

And that was with the matter of having his pants ripped off in front of Shinra and Celty aside, as Shizuo really _had_ had a very good grip on them.

 _But why me...? I don't care how fuzzy his recent memories are, I'm the_ last _person he should want to stay with, much less in such a vulnerable state…_

_What if I decided to kill him?_

It wasn’t the first thing on his to-do list at the given moment, but it certainly wasn’t the last thing. And, feeling the oddly fragile young body pressed close against him, he suspected that it wouldn't be all that hard. 

_Not effortless, perhaps… Shizu-chan is still Shizu-chan._

_… But perhaps… very doable._

When Izaya arrived at his building, he felt Shizuo push himself into a more upright position on his shoulders. He hoped that Namie had already returned with the requested items and started dinner.

"I'm home!" he called experimentally, and was delighted to receive an answer.

"About time! Do I _want_ to know where you've been?"

"Probably not," was his cheerful reply, and he rolled his shoulders to dislodge Shizuo. The child jumped willingly down, but stuck surprisingly close to Izaya's side. "Did you get what I asked for?"

"Yeah. The futon beat you here by about ten minutes; I had it set up in your spare room. So what's the deal with this kid?" But by then she had come into sight around the hallway corner, drying her hands as she walked. Her gaze fell on the child hovering by Izaya's side, her eyes widening as she asked, "Is that Shizuo Heiwajima?"

The information dealer sighed, nudging Shizuo out of his shadow with one leg. "Yep, good old Shizu-chan, de-aged courtesy of Shinra's mad-scientist skills."

"And he's staying _here_?" Namie asked in disbelief, then approached and crouched down in front of Shizuo. The child tried to latch physically onto Izaya again, but was promptly kicked and shoved away. A brief scuffle broke out, ending in a patch of fabric being torn from the pant leg of a very indignant information dealer. Namie couldn't quite stifle her laughter.

"You're a jerk!" Shizuo snapped at Izaya, who was staring in shock at the skin visible through his pants. The child looked down at the denim in his hands and repeated, softly, "You're a jerk."

"I think we've long established that," the information dealer said sorely. "I'm a jerk and you're a monster— that's the way it's always been."

That seemed to do the trick better than any physical deterrent, and Shizuo dropped the denim as though it had burned him. He backed away by several steps, then turned to Namie.

"Sorry, I'm being rude," he said, then averted his eyes. But he didn't say any more, and so Namie nodded.

"It's alright. You're going to be staying here with Izaya?"

A strange look came to Shizuo's face. "You don't live here?" he asked, and Namie shook her head.

"Heavens no. I'd go mad."

Some of the tension left Shizuo's shoulders, then; it wasn't lost on Izaya. "Oh. Okay." And with that he simply padded off, calling over his shoulder, "Where are my new clothes?"

Izaya noticed, with a jolt of embarrassment, that the child had left his boxers behind on the ground. But his shirt and vest were long enough to cover anything indecent, although Namie couldn't quite hide her giggling.

"On the kitchen table chair, Hon."

Shizuo paused, then nodded slightly. "Okay. Thanks."

Once he had gone, Izaya let out a frustrated little groan and flopped onto the ground to examine the damage to his clothing. Namie, still crouched down, tilted her head.

"What the hell is going on? Why is he staying with you?"

"Damned if I know..." Izaya grumbled, smiling wryly. "Little brat refused to stay with Shinra and Celty. He wanted to come with me, instead."

"Are we sure he hasn't suffered any brain damage?" the girl asked, and Izaya gave a dry laugh.

"Not at all. We know his memories are unreliable, at the very least."

"That's not good," Namie commented.

"Not at all," Izaya agreed, with a strained smile.

"Are you—?" the girl began to ask, but Shizuo reappeared before she could. He was clad in a pair of brown shorts and a cutesy graphic t-shirt with a dinosaur on it.

"What are you two talking about?" It was a childish question, but he looked strangely suspicious. Namie stood first.

"Nothing, Hon. Izaya was just catching me up on your situation." 

"I don't want you talking about me behind my back." Shizuo looked defensive and hostile, but his voice cracked uncertainly on the last word. Izaya didn't bother to get to his feet as Namie glanced uncertainly at him.

"Dinner?" he asked his secretary expectantly, and she glowered before whisking back into the kitchen. Then he turned toward the child. "Are you hungry, Shizu-brat?"

"No," the youth grunted, looking down. "I don't want your stupid food."

"Then don't eat it," Izaya said indifferently, getting to his feet with another sore look at his torn pants. "Starve for your stubbornness if you want to; it'll save me some trouble."

Shizuo didn't follow him as he padded after Namie into the kitchen, and Izaya didn't look back.

"Do you think he'll like this?" Namie asked, motioning to the udon soup and sizzling rice dish on the stove. "Kids' pallets are sometimes—"

"He's not eating," Izaya cut her off, sitting down casually. Namie's eyebrows arched.

"He isn't? Why not?"

Izaya shrugged. "Said he didn't want to."

"Izaya, he's being stubborn," Namie said, exasperated. "Kids need to eat regularly, even more so than adults."

"Who cares?" the intimation broker muttered. "I'm not his guardian or anything of the sort. Like I just told him, he can starve for all I care."

"Izaya..."

"What?" he asked plaintively, shrugging and closing his eyes. "You expect me to suddenly care about the protozoan just because he's turned into a kid? And how long, exactly, have you been in my employ?"

Namie sighed, half-throwing a plate of food across the table. Izaya caught it with a surprised exclamation.

"I hope it makes you _sick_ ," the woman spat, and her employer laughed.

"You know I have a stronger stomach than that, dearest Namie."

Namie scoffed, then grabbed her coat and stalked out the front door. Izaya watched her go, feeling a bit less satisfied than he thought he should and attributing it to the chill caused by the hole in his jeans.

He ate his supper, and his stomach didn't rebel against him.

... ... ...

Namie had made much too much food.

 _I_ did _tell her to make enough for two..._ Izaya thought sorely, having to put the leftovers in tupperware and shove it into his already overfull refrigerator.

"I'm never going to be able to eat all this before it spoils," he muttered, somewhat amused by his own affluence but also a bit annoyed with it. It wasn't as if he really enjoyed being wasteful, it was just that he _could_... and so he did. "Oops."

Closing the refrigerator again, he turned back toward the room where he had left Shizuo. Part of him knew he should check on the child, but part of him really didn't want to. As it was, he had to pass the spare room on the way to his office anyway, so he told himself that it was only natural to poke his head in.

"Shizu-brat?"

The boy was sitting on the newly ordered futon, the light from his phone eliminating his small face. He glanced up automatically, then looked down upon meeting Izaya's gaze.

"What?"

The information dealer bristled slightly. "Just making sure you're comfortable on the futon I bought," he quipped. "I'm going to sic your own company on you after this is all over to get back what I'm spending on you."

Shizuo's eyes narrowed. "I have as much right to a bed..." he began, but trailed off strangely. Izaya leapt on the opportunity.

"A little beastie like you? You belong on the floor. You should be so lucky to sleep curled at the _bottom_ of _my_ bed, you know." He sighed pensively. "But I'm just too generous for my own good. Plus I don't want you anywhere near me."

Shizuo's face flushed. "Shut up..." he muttered, then flopped down with his back to the information broker. Izaya sniffed.

"It's no fun if you don't fight back," he pouted, but then shrugged and continued on to his study when Shizuo didn't respond.

And once he opened his laptop, he gave the child no more thought.


	3. Reheated Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you thank you for all the support so far!! I'm so looking forward to sharing what I've got in store, and I very much hope to live up to expectations! Here's chapter two~

"What was that about not wanting my 'stupid food?'"

The rustling that had roused Izaya stopped, and the information dealer crossed his arms with a smirk.

"It's not nice to dig around in people's refrigerators without permission."

"So?" Shizuo asked softly, straightening up from his crouch. "My memories might not be crystal clear, but I don't remember us ever being 'nice' to one another."

Izaya shrugged. "Fair enough. Though you could at least ask me. It is _my_ stupid food, after all."

Shizuo's small jaw clenched, and he didn't look over at Izaya as he muttered. "Can I have some?"

The information dealer's smile widened. "Give me one good reason why I should feed a monster," he replied, and was a bit startled when Shizuo slammed the refrigerator door with enough force to set the whole appliance to rattling.

"Forget it!" he screamed. "Just forget it! There's no reason! There's no good reason at all! It's not like I really expected anything, anyway!"

Izaya watched in amazement as the small brunette bolted out the front door, tearing the thing off it's hinges in his haste. He blinked, then laughed vaguely.

_I knew he had a short fuze, but that defied expectations..._

Checking the refrigerator first for damage— he didn't want the food inside to spoil before he had a chance to not eat it, after all —and then fixing the door somewhat, he questioned whether or not he should chase after the boy. He wondered idly if he could find Shizuo even if he wanted to, and laughed again at the prospect.

_Shizu-chan... you never cease to amaze..._

Then, all at once, something occurred to him. He had been turning over their brief conversation in the back of his mind, analyzing it as was his custom, and one bit suddenly jumped out at him.

_"There is no reason!"_

That had been an inappropriate thing to shout, he thought, and traced it back to the question he had asked.

_"Give me one good reason why I should feed a monster."_

_"There is no reason! There's no good reason at all!"_

Shizuo had never argued the point that he was a monster among men, but... _Has he ever... said that he doesn't deserve something based on it? Or was that just an impulsive thing screamed by an emotional child in the middle of a fight?_

Perhaps he was overthinking it. He had never known Shizuo Heiwajima to be the self-destructive brand of stupid, after all.

_Not self-destructive, exactly… but self-loathing...? ... Perhaps._

Shaking his head furiously to scatter the thoughts, Izaya returned to his office. The light of sunrise was seeping through his curtains, and he yawned.

_Stupid kid... waking me up so early..._

But that didn't sit quite right, and he felt his mouth purse in a displeased expression. He didn't like the anxious twisting of his stomach when he thought of the situation, and he hated the idea that he was worried for Shizuo's well-being.

 _I'm... not worried,_ he thought, then said it aloud. "I'm not worried about _him._ I'm worried about what that idiot Shinra will do to me if he finds out I lost the kid."

That was it. Shinra was the closest thing he had to a friend, after all; it made sense for the doctor's thoughts and opinions to make a difference to him.

"Well, better go after the brat, then," Izaya announced to no one, then strolled off to get ready to do just that.

And, although he tried to ignore the fact, he felt immensely better after settling on that course of action.

... ... ... 

It didn't take incredibly long for Izaya to find the boy; he knew Shizuo Heiwajima well, after all. The child was hiding behind his favorite smoke shop, halfway hidden inside a crumbling alley wall.

The air was stiflingly full of smoke, but Shizuo still said softly, "I can smell your stupid flea scent. Come out already."

Izaya felt a fond smile tug threateningly at his lips; stepped obligingly out of the shadows, hands spread. "I can't hide from you."

"Damn right..." But Shizuo's voice lacked the appropriate spite; he sounded like the child he was, any trace of the older Shizuo momentarily gone. Izaya came to stand close to him.

"Do you feel safe here, is that it?"

"... Yeah."

Izaya scoffed lightly. "It's a fitting little lair for a sulky little monster, I'll give you that."

Shizuo flinched, and Izaya felt decidedly less satisfaction than he had expected from the jab. It took him an awkwardly empty moment to think of anything else to say.

"Shinra will be mad if I lose you," he finally said, then extended his hand. "Come on. End of tantrum, Shizu-brat."

The child looked up at him, eyes hazy in the dim light. "I..." he began, then bit his lip and looked down. "Nevermind..." he muttered, ignoring Izaya's hand and using the wall to push himself up. But one of his feet was held a tiny bit off the ground, a fact that wasn't lost on the keen-eyed information dealer.

"What's with the limp, kid?" Izaya asked with a slimy smile; Shizuo avoided his gaze.

"I'm fine. Just forget it."

"You've always been a terrible liar, Shizu-brat," Izaya quipped, giving the boy's right leg a lightning-fast kick. He landed heavily on his left foot, crying out hoarsely as it went out from under him. "There? Now was that so hard to admit?"

"You're terrible..." Shizuo groaned, pushing himself back upright and clutching at his ankle. For a moment Izaya's mocking smile was genuine, but it suddenly occurred to him that he was neither familiar nor completely comfortable with seeing Shizuo in physical pain.

"What, did you sprain it?" he asked, still trying to tease despite his uneasiness. "Since when does that faze the _great_ Heiwajima Shizu-chan?"

"Shut up..." the child growled, but Izaya was once again startled by the tears visible in the corners of his eyes. "I wasn't... as tough... as a kid. You know? Jeez..."

After an awkwardly uncertain moment, Izaya crouched down. "Well let me see," he said gruffly, and after a moment Shizuo extended one leg. His left ankle was hopelessly swollen, and he winced slightly when Izaya pressed down.

"Ouch."

"Suck it up," Izaya grunted, then grabbed both of Shizuo's small hands and heaved the child upright.

Shizuo staggered for a moment, hopping to avoid putting weight on his injured foot. But before he could even get his balance, Izaya had scooped him up by his underarms and hoisted him into the air. Izaya indulged in bouncing his mortal enemy playfully several times before hefting him and settling him onto his hip, the child clinging instinctively to his neck.

"There," the information broker huffed. "Now we go to Shinra's, so don't wriggle around too much." 

Shizuo fell still and silent against Izaya, although he didn't relax. The information dealer tried to ignore the odd looks he was attracting, strange child perched on his hip. But Shizuo was even less inclined to attract attention, so he hid his face between his arm and Izaya's chest, and stayed there until they reached Shinra's apartment building.

"Izaya! Shizuo!" the doctor greeted them both in slight confusion. "What brings you..." he looked them up and down, "... here?"

"His leg is hurt," Izaya said flatly. "I don't know how to treat it, and I'm sure as hell not carrying him around everywhere." He moved to hold Shizuo out but the child seemed to have other ideas, clinging to him like a security blanket. When Izaya tried to pry him off by force, one tiny hand knotted in his hair and another in his shirt, hanging on insistently while Shinra quietly tried not to laugh.

"Come on in," the doctor managed to get out, motioning. Resignedly, Izaya trudged in and sat on the couch with Shizuo still on his hip.

"You're being ridiculous, Shizu-brat," Izaya murmured close to the child's ear, but the boy didn't react.

"So let's see about that leg!" Shinra said cheerfully, coming up beside them. Izaya felt Shizuo shift fractionally away from the doctor, but he turned his body so that the child couldn't hide entirely.

"I think it's sprained," the information dealer offered. Shinra gently took the child's leg and pulled it out for examination; Shizuo let him, but his tiny fingers curled painfully tight in Izaya's hair. "Ouch...!"

"It is a pretty nasty sprain," the doctor confirmed, then continued fondly, "I remember when things like this used to give you trouble, Shizuo. It'll heal within a day or two, but I'll still get it wrapped for you." Then he stood and trotted away, leaving Izaya to try his best to disentangle himself from Shizuo's embrace.

"Let... let go...!" he grunted, then gave a strained laugh. "Let go of me, you little beastie...! Let go!"

Eventually he managed to half-cajole, half-wrestle Shizuo onto the seat next to him, although the child was still fidgeting anxiously. With a sigh, Izaya surrendered to having his arm, at the very least, held prisoner.

"Here we are!" Shinra returned victorious, a small brace in hand and his lab coat on. He made blessedly short work of the injured ankle, then leaned down. "And a kiss to make it better, right?"

_"And a kiss to make it better."_

_Pain— there was pain searing through his chest. He was flat on his back, the owner of the white lab coat and the slimy voice hovering over him. There were leathery hands cupping his small face._

_It felt wrong; as slimy as his voice sounded. And the tears were coming, regardless of how hard he tried to keep them back._

_"You do want to get better, don't you... my cute little monster?"_

"No!!"

One small foot came up and slammed into Shinra's shoulder; there was the distinct crack of a bone, and a look of shock crossed the doctor's face. But before anyone could react, Shizuo had landed a second kick, this time squarely in the forehead and luckily without the force to crush bone behind it.

As Shinra fell backwards, unconscious, Izaya tried to pick his jaw up off the ground. "What the hell was—?!" he began, but cut off as Shizuo grabbed him around the chest. The embrace was almost tight enough to break a couple of ribs; it certainly _was_ tight enough to restrict his breathing.

"It's a lie, isn't it?" the child whispered, then tightened his grip fractionally and drew a choked sound from Izaya. "They don’t… I can’t..."

"You're... going to crush me... Shizu..." Izaya managed to wheeze, patting the boy awkwardly on the head. Shizuo's grip slackened a bit. 

"... Sorry..." he mumbled, starting to draw away. But Izaya bundled him back up in his arms as he rose, making sure that the boy's face stayed pressed into his chest.

He didn't want to see the tears; his own reaction to them was too confusing.

"Shit..." he mumbled, then ran his free hand through his hair. "Shit. Celty'll blame me for this, you know," he added, then laughed slightly. "Whoops."

"Sorry," Shizuo mumbled again, then peered over at where Shinra was lying with a stupid grin on his face. "I know he's my friend, I just..."

"Well, at least he looks like he's having a good dream, right?" Izaya offered, then crouched down beside the fallen doctor. "It's just his clavicle that's broken," he said, then continued, "So see? Nothing serious. People break their collarbones all the time. I've broken mine, what? Three times? Maybe four…” _Right, four—_ you've _broken it three times and then that one nasty tumble I took out of that tree…_

"You're sure he'll be okay?" Shizuo asked in a small voice. And Izaya found that a biting quip wasn't the first thing on his tongue.

Instead, it was an awkward mumble of, "Yeah, I'm sure."

... ... ... 

Shizuo started to walk on his own when they reached Shinjuku; he still kept a tight grip on Izaya's hand and sported a small limp from his injury, but the information dealer was just relieved to have him down on his own two feet.

He didn't share his Shizu-chan's superhuman strength, after all, and the ten year old boy wasn't exactly light as a feather.

"Hey... hey, get back here!" Izaya called, when Shizuo made for his designated room as soon as they hit the door. The boy stalled; hesitated, but still turned and trotted back over to Izaya.

"What?"

The information dealer huffed, then motioned tiredly as he began to walk to the kitchen. "You haven't eaten since... what, yesterday morning, right? Sit down at the table. I'll get you something."

Seeming surprised and just a bit suspicious, Shizuo obeyed. Somewhere between five and ten minutes later, Izaya returned with a pair of plates in hand.

"Did you...?" Shizuo asked, when presented with the clearly homemade food. A smile played at Izaya's lips for a moment, and he shook his head.

"Namie did. She cooks for me." Then he let his smile grow into a wide, almost hamish grin. "But I reheated it, you know, and that takes a whole different skill set!" he informed the child, one hand held proudly to his chest. "You have to get the settings on the microwave _just right_ to get it warmed evenly! And of course it can't be _too_ hot, because reheated food is usually served immediately. And then there's the matter of cold spots... ugh!" He gave a suffering sigh, bringing the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. "Most people just don't realize what an art form perfectly reheated food is!"

And then Shizuo was laughing. It was an honest, childish laugh, his eyes closing as his head tipped back slightly. Izaya felt a strangely powerful rush of satisfaction— not unlike seeing a carefully constructed plan go incredibly right, but somehow far simpler than that. Reveling in the feeling, he sat down with a bow.

"Now, I've slaved over a hot microwave for five whole minutes to get it perfect for you. So please, enjoy!"

And, still laughing, Shizuo did.


	4. From Inside the Closet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words cannot express my gratitude for all the support so far!! Q^Q Thank you guys for all the comments and kudos. <3 Apologies for the wait, and please enjoy the next chapter~~

It wasn't uncommon for Izaya to be awake and doing business at three in the morning, but keeping the company of a ten year old seemed to be a bit more tiring than his usual routine (which wasn't exactly a walk in the park to begin with).

So he was quite irritated when he was woken at three in the morning, and quite inexplicably at that.

For a moment, it was a complete mystery to him what had disturbed his sleep. He sat there in the desk chair where he had drifted off, blinking in quiet confusion and filing mechanically through a list of potential assassins in his mind.

But then the sound came again.

"N-No...!"

It was a unsteady shout, distressed and somewhat frail; youthful and afraid.

A child.

 _Shizuo…_ Izaya though, then closed his eyes and tilted his head back in his chair. _Go to sleep... or at the very least have your freak out quietly…_

And, although it took the information broker a few minutes and a bit of effort to fall back asleep, he gave his houseguest little more though.

... ... ... 

Morning found Izaya awake, alert, and slightly more troubled by the night's events than he had been at the time of their occurrence.

 _Clearly a nightmare..._ he thought, waiting patiently in the kitchen. He could hear the child moving about in the other room, and so figured that it would only be a few minutes before he wandered into the kitchen.

As it was, it was nearly half an hour— half an hour to stew about nightmares and why he should or shouldn't care. 

"Good morning!" he called, when Shizuo finally poked his head around the corner. "I hope you're up for some expertly-microwaved breakfast!"

The boy grunted noncommittally, hopping up into a chair at the kitchen table. Izaya stole a couple of critical glances at him, spotting bruised knuckles and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"Rough night?" he asked, sliding a plate of fried rice and eggs across the table.

Shizuo caught it before it skidded off onto his lap, but his answer was a brusque, "None of your business."

Izaya's brow creased. "Like hell it isn't, you little brat," he said, his voice still cheerful. "You woke me up at three in the morning." He sat down with his own breakfast in hand, then tucked in without any more ceremony.

"That doesn't make it your business." Shizuo shoved his food to one side of the plate; moved it back. Izaya glared slightly.

"Eat your food."

Shizuo glowered, but took a bite anyway.

"Now tell me what last night was about."

Shizuo stuck his tongue out, then took another defiant bite of his breakfast.

The information dealer sighed heavily. "I have ways of getting what I want, Shizu-brat. My business _is_ glorified gossip, you know."

The child's only reply was a soft grunt.

"There's something you're not telling me," Izaya pressed, but again got no real response. He gave a soft sigh before saying, "I could ask Kasuka, if you're really going to be that stubborn."

Shizuo's fork hit his plate; Izaya felt an instant sting of regret, although he couldn't put his finger on why.

"Kasuka can't know. Kasuka can never know." His voice shook, but only on the last word. Izaya leaned forward slightly.

"Kasuka is your brother. He already knows." It was a cruel thing to say. _But I'm a cruel person..._ Izaya thought. _So why should this bother me?_

"No... no, he can't know...!" Shizuo shook his head firmly. "I won't let him..."

"He knows what a monster you are." Izaya hardly got the words out before the plate of food was flung at him; his reflexes saved him from taking it straight to the face, and he watched as Shizuo bolted up.

"No... _no_!" he screamed. "Shut up! I'll never let him see...! I'll never—!" And then he spun, racing from the room with Izaya staring after him in amazed confusion.

For a very strange moment, the most important thought in the information broker’s mind was, _Damn kid didn't eat his breakfast..._

Then he was on his feet for some reason, although he stopped himself before he got more than a few steps after Shizuo. _What am I... doing...?_ He had the distinct impression that he should be laughing, but he felt decidedly too empty to manage it.

_... Shit._

So, mired in confusing thoughts and feelings, he sat back down to finish his own breakfast.

... … …

He was in a closet.

Kasuka was calling for him.

The boy tried hard to stifle the sobs building in his chest, lest they give away his location. His cheek stung, cruel words echoing in his head.

_"I wish you'd never been born!"_

_"Who in their right mind would accept a_ monster _as a son?"_

"Shizu-nii?"

Shizuo drew his knees up tighter to his chest. If he could just stay hidden until the mark on his cheek healed, then he could smile for Kasuka.

He could smile for his brother.

_It'll heal soon... just a bit longer..._

"Shizu-nii?"

The younger boy sounded concerned. _But I can't be hurt..._ Shizuo thought. _Only humans can die._

_He doesn't have to worry... about a monster like me._

"Nii-chan?"

... ... ... 

Izaya finished his breakfast and sat back, gaze finding Shizuo's abandoned plate where it had landed on the floor.

_... What now...?_

He rose with a sigh; stretched languidly and allowed his feet to carry him in the direction that Shizuo had vanished.

"Shiiiiizuuuu- _brat_!" he called experimentally; received no reply. But it only took a brief search of the house's closets to turn up the child, who subsequently shrunk farther back behind Izaya's coats.

"Leave me alone." He sounded like a cornered animal; Izaya didn't try to approach.

"You don't have to come out," he said instead, crouching down. "Just let me bring you something to eat. How about it?"

"Not hungry," the boy grunted, and Izaya sighed.

"I know. But you should still eat something."

Shizuo was silent for a moment, then buried his face in his arms. "Shut up. A monster like me doesn't deserve anything like that. Just close the door and leave me here."

Izaya's eyes narrowed and, unsurprisingly, he didn't leave. But he didn't come forward, either.

"So you're a little monster?" he questioned, and Shizuo flinched. Then he stood with a soft sigh. "Well guess what, Shizu-brat: everyone already knows that, and you have people who inexplicably care about you anyway. So stop sulking and come out." He turned, one hand still on the doorframe, and tossed over his shoulder,

"No one's going to hit you."

... ... ... 

It was rapidly becoming clear to Izaya, who spent so much time on and invested so much energy in observing humans, that Shizuo Heiwajima had been abused.

Izaya had always known that the would-be-bartender had various sorts of issues, mental and emotional; that was part of what made him so fun to play with. But with the traumatic memories brought to the foreground by one unexpected and unfortunate de-aging accident, the extent of the damage was stripped bare.

The information dealer wasn't sure how he felt about the revelation.

"Yeah... yeah, how's that clavicle of yours? Sorry. Ooh... yeah, I figured she'd be out for blood. Well you're okay, so don't let her beat me too severally, okay? Yeah, he's okay. Yeah. Yeah, I think so, too."

The knowledge disturbed Izaya. But what bothered him more was just how much it disturbed him. He had talked a fair number of abused young boys and girls right off the ledge many times during his little suicide games. But this was Shizuo, and he had chosen Izaya as his reluctant protector.

_He feels secure with me, his mortal enemy... even when he clearly shouldn't._

_Because he knows I'm strong— strong enough to protect him._

_Because he feels our relationship is stable._

_And because he knows that I already view him as a monster._

"Yeah. I know. Yeah. He's okay for now. He chose to stay with me, so I'm looking after him. Yeah. _Yes_ , you can trust me."

 _Can..._ he _trust me...?_

A sound made Izaya look over; Shizuo stood in the doorway, his toes turned inward slightly. Izaya motioned to him, then pushed a plate of food across that table. The child approached.

"Yeah. Oh, sorry. He's here now. Want to talk to him?" The information broker held out the phone, making Shizuo jump and regard him warily. "It's Shinra. Wanna talk to him?"

Shizuo hesitated for a moment, then took the offered phone in his small hand. "Hey. Sorry about... you know. Whatever. Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine, I said! Yeah..."

As Izaya watched the boy, he wondered idly what he had suffered at the hands of unscrupulous doctors in the past. _Something severe enough to make him break Shinra's collar bone... even when he still recognizes Shinra as a friend._

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm eating fine. I said fine! Yeah..."

Izaya smiled slightly. He was pleased with the job he was doing taking care of the little monster... _his_ little monster. _But I wasn't the first one to ever call you a monster... far from it._

_And I'm not the only one who's ever hit you._

"Okay. Thanks. Yeah. Sorry again. Tell Celty, too. Sorry. Thanks, Shinra." Then he slid the phone back across the table, muttering, "Thanks," one more time, this time to Izaya.

"No problem." The information dealer tucked his phone back into his pocket, then watched as the boy picked at his food. "We'll stick close to home today, what do you think?"

"Sure..." Shizuo mumbled.

"Okay," Izaya said, unsure if the smile he attempted managed to be reassuring. "Just relax."

"I am relaxed..." the child grunted defensively, and Izaya allowed himself a small sigh.

"Don't lie to me, Shizu-brat. You know it doesn't work."

And at last the boy smiled— ruefully. "Yeah, I know. Sorry."

... ... ... 

"We just hit the thirty-hour mark?"

"Right."

"How long has he been like that?"

"Twenty-one hours and seven minutes, now."

"And he isn't trying to break the glass anymore?"

"No."

"Hmm... Surprising."

"Do you think his strength has finally run out?"

"He hasn't had any sort of sustenance, right?"

"Right."

"Hmm..."

"... Doctor?"

"What?"

"Aren't we concerned about permanent organ damage? In a child so young..."

"Don't worry. That isn't a child in there— it's an abnormality. In laymen's terms, a little monster."

Shizuo's head snapped up, the supposedly soundproof glass unable to stop the single word. But neither of the men noticed.

"But this is a very human reaction to isolation..."

"I disagree. I'd say its a beastial reaction... an instinctual one, in response to his own weakening body."

"But—"

The soundproof glass also couldn't stop the howl of rage, and that was the thing that both men noticed. Immediately thereafter, they saw the supposedly-impenetrable glass shatter, and their lives played out before their lives.

But Shizuo Heiwajima didn't raise a hand against either of them. He agreed with them; felt that, perhaps, he _was_ a thing fit to be studied in such inhumane ways. And he detested violence, besides.

What he did was run. And as he ran, he cried.

... ... ...

"Shizu-nii. You aren't supposed to be—"

"Shhh," Shizuo hushed the smaller boy, holding one finger to his lips. But Kasuka's eyes widened just fractionally as he saw the scratches on his brother's hands and forearms.

"What happened?" he asked, in an obligingly low voice. Shizuo jumped, realizing his mistake and hurriedly tucking both hands behind his back.

"N-Nothing..." he mumbled. "I tripped. You know how clumsy... yeah. I fell in a thorn bush, too. Talk about rotten luck." He laughed weakly.

Kasuka regarded him coolly for a moment— strangely so, for a seven-year old —and then gave a single nod; accepted the story. Shizuo breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"But you weren't supposed to be home until morning," the younger continued. "Mom and Dad said—"

A scream cut him off, and suddenly both boys' gazes found their shared mother, standing a few yards behind Kasuka inside the house. Her face was as white as crisp paper, hands held to her mouth and wide eyes fixed on Shizuo. The child felt his heart plummet, and tried to keep his distress from showing as the mother composed herself.

"O-Oh... I'm so sorry, boys!" she said in a quavering voice, then knelt down and bundled Kasuka into her arms. "You just... goodness, Shizuo, you startled me!"

 _"You terrify me."_ It was clear in her eyes, and Shizuo took a single step back. Then his father had appeared behind his mother, his expression one of supreme displeasure.

"Home so soon, Shizuo?" the man asked casually.

"... Yeah," the boy mumbled, then stepped slowly into the house. He felt his father's challenging gaze on him and tried not to flinch.

"You were supposed to stay the night," his father continued softly, and Shizuo shrugged.

"I dunno. I missed home too much. Or somethin'..."

"Come to our room after you clean up those scratches," the man said, and Shizuo stiffened. "I want to talk to you about keeping to the schedule. It's an important skill, you know."

The boy nodded mechanically. "Okay." Then he turned; bowed briefly. "G' night, Kasuka."

"Good night, Nii-chan," the younger replied, his eyes never betraying a hint of emotion. "See you in the morning."

"Yeah... see you in the morning," Shizuo grunted quietly, not at all convinced that he would.

... ... ... 

"I always suspected you had a hand in your parents' deaths. But that's not the case, is it?"

Shizuo shook his head. "It was an accident."

"A car accident, I know. I've read up on you, my most worthy nemesis."

Shizuo was watching some pointless cartoon; Izaya knew he wasn't interrupting anything when he leaned over the back of the couch and started the conversation.

"It was an accident."

"I know," Izaya repeated. "But I always suspected it was _your_ accident, not a manufacturing error with the engine. I thought you might have broken the car in one of your fits and ended up killing them both. I thought it was a rather funny idea."

"You're a jerk."

"I know." Izaya's casual smile faded. "But I was wrong about the car— it wasn't your doing at all."

Then it was Shizuo's turn to mutter, "I know."

"You had already run away when it happened. You were staying with Dotachin at the time."

"Yeah."

"But what about Kasuka?"

Shizuo stiffened. "What about him?" he asked softly. "He was younger than me. I wouldn't have dragged him along."

Izaya was silent for a moment, then came around to the other side of the couch. He hesitated again before sitting, but when he did it was with his torso turned toward the child, one arm slung over the backrest.

"Four years after you ran away, the car crash."

"Right." There was a trace of exasperation in Shizuo's voice.

"That was about... a week after Kasuka got scouted, wouldn't you say?"

"I don't know what you're getting at," Shizuo growled, "but leave my brother out of it." 

Izaya held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. But doesn't that sound a bit suspicious to you?"

"I don't know what you're getting at," Shizuo repeated stubbornly. Izaya sighed, then, and got up.

"Fine, fine. I've got an errand to run. There's food in the fridge if you get hungry, okay?"

"... 'Kay."

"And don't leave the house," Izaya added. Shizuo nodded solemnly.

"I won't. ... Hurry back."

And Izaya found himself smiling. "I will."

... ... ... 

"I'm home! I brought pudding!"

A head of ruffled brunette hair popped up over the couch. "Really?"

"Really, really!" Izaya chirped, holding up the convenience store bag triumphantly. Shizuo reached over the back of the couch eagerly.

"Thank you."

The words hit Izaya squarely in the chest, sending an almost painful warmth blossoming out from the point of impact. But he hid the reaction, turning away and not replying.

"Where'd you go?" It wasn't a prying question, just Shizuo's childish attempt at conversation as he took the first bite of his pudding.

"Nowhere important," Izaya replied. "Just tracking down a lead. My job isn't just sitting behind a computer all day, you know."

"I know that," Shizuo mumbled, his mouth full.

"Don't worry about it," Izaya said flippantly, then added with a smirk, "You'll have plenty of time for that when things are back to normal and you're constantly trying to get in my way again."

And Shizuo, grinning around his spoon, replied, "You can count on that."


	5. Spilled Milk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments and support, I owe you guys bigtime! <3 I'll try my best to pay you back in prose~

"I have a meeting today, you know. An important meeting." An important meeting that Izaya Orihara had already put off _twice_ to deal with the situation at hand. And he sure as hell wouldn't be delaying it a third time and risk the deal he was working on.

"Okay. I'm coming with you."

Izaya almost spat out his coffee, but that would have been simply _too_ undignified. "No you're not."

"Yeah, I am."

"No, you're not."

"I am."

" _Not_ , you brat!"

"You left me behind yesterday."

"For good reason!"

"I'm coming."

"No."

"Yes!

"You are _not_!" Izaya snapped, hopping slightly to get into a disagreeable pair of jeans.

"I am!"

"You are n— aah!" Spinning to face the child, the information dealer promptly tripped on his half-donned pants, losing his balance and crashing face-first into the carpet.

Shizuo burst into that light child's laughter— that horribly infectious, intoxicating laughter that made Izaya's heart swell even when lying flat on the floor. And, before he even knew what he was saying, he had relented.

"Fine, fine, you win. Just don't get in my way. This is adults' business, got it?"

... ... ... 

It felt strange, having the small hand nested firmly in his.

But it felt nice.

"How's your ankle?" Izaya asked, surprising himself with the attempt at small talk. Shizuo gave a light skip.

"Good as new."

"Good." Again he was surprised— he really was glad that the boy wasn't in pain. He didn't like the look of pain on this younger Shizuo. It was strangely... less satisfying than he would expect.

Fear, likewise, was an unpleasant expression to see on the child's face.

Izaya felt a slight tug on his hand, and looked down to find that Shizuo had slowed. Following the boy's gaze, he found himself looking across the street at an ice cream vendor. 

And he smiled.

"You want to stop for some?"

Shizuo looked up at him in genuine surprise, and his eyes quickly narrowed in suspicion. Izaya felt the look like a prod in his stomach, and he tightened his grip slightly on the small hand nested in his.

"Come on. We have time before my client is expecting me." He didn't give the boy much of a chance to argue— or look at him any longer with those _eyes_ —and quickly led the way across the street. Shizuo, despite his lingering mistrust, didn't pull away.

"What's your favorite?" Izaya asked, upon reaching the stand. "I don't know that about you, come to think of it."

The vendor regarded the pair of them with barely-veiled suspicion; little wonder, considering the way the small boy was glaring mistrustfully at the older man buying him ice cream.

"... Anything chocolate," Shizuo finally admitted, and Izaya turned triumphantly to the vendor.

"Three scoops, then, of popular chocolatey varieties! Cone?" he asked Shizuo, who shrugged.

"Sure."

"Excellent!" He turned expectantly to the vendor.

"And for you, Sir?" Something in the elderly woman's eyes told Izaya that she would be calling the police if he didn't dispel at least a bit of her suspicion by getting some for himself, so he wilted obligingly and ordered a scoop of coffee-flavored ice cream— the least of the presented evils, in his eyes.

It was much sweeter than he would usually tolerate, but he forced himself to lap at it for appearances as they began to walk again. Some of Shizuo's animosity began to vanish, and he even chirped, "Thanks!" as he worked on the sweet treat.

It made Izaya's heart swell, although he tried hard not to get caught up in the feeling.

"Hey, Izaya!"

The information dealer stopped dead in his tracks, tightening his grip subconsciously on Shizuo's hand. Then he turned slightly, and the child followed his lead.

"Hey," Kohei Kadota greeted him, coming to a stop. "I don't suppose you've seen Shizuo around, have...?" But he trailed off, question left unfinished as his gaze fell on the boy holding Izaya's hand and licking docilely at his frozen treat.

"Hey," he said easily; waved slightly with his ice cream. "I know you. How's it going?"

Kadota turned a disbelieving gaze on Izaya, who could only shrug meekly. "Okay, what the hell?"

"Shinra gone wild," Izaya said, taking a bite of his own ice cream. "Apparently screwing your friends over is a pretty okay thing in the mad-scientist community."

That made more sense to Kadota than it might have to the average person, even if it didn't completely explain the situation. "Well... that isn't too hard to figure, I guess..." he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. Then he looked down at Shizuo, pausing for an awkward moment before crouching down. "How're you doing, Shizuo?"

The child shrugged, lapping busily at his ice cream. "Pretty okay. My memories are a bit jumbled, though. You're... Kadota, right?"

"Yeah," the other replied, with an uncertain glance up at Izaya. "You remember him, too?"

"Yeah. He's Izaya; the flea," Shizuo answered, his hand flexing in Izaya's and his brow furrowing slightly. "They're all there, just a bit jumbled."

"So you remember Izaya... and you're with him _by choice_?" Kadota asked to verify. Upon receiving a hesitant nod, he pressed, "Why?" and promptly found a half-eaten scoop of coffee-flavored dessert turned over on his head. Shizuo choked on a laugh.

"Don't badger the poor kid," Izaya said authoritatively. "He's had a rough couple of days."

Kadota watched, a bit mystified and a bit resentfully, as Izaya led Shizuo off down the street. The child waved jovially, then returned to his ice cream.

"You don't talk to anyone you don't want to," Izaya felt the need to tell him as they walked. Shizuo made an agreeable sound, and the information dealer continued somewhat offhandedly, "I mean, Dotachin's a good guy, but there are some not-so-good guys out there, too. I'm a not-so-good guy, so I know."

"Mm..." Shizuo murmured, then held up his ice cream. "Want some?"

Izaya paused, genuinely surprised by the offer. So he forwent the explanation of how much he disliked sweet things and took an obliging lick.

The taste was almost enough to make him gag, but the sentiment dragged a genuine smile onto his face.

Izaya and Shizuo arrived at the designated coffee shop before the yakuza representative, and Izaya took the opportunity to order a black coffee for himself— to wash the cloying sweetness out of his mouth —and some cookies and milk for Shizuo.

It just seemed natural, and Shizuo didn't bat a suspicious eye.

"Just be quiet," Izaya instructed him as he sipped his milk calmly. "This client, he's one of those not-so-good guys. So just don't make eye contact, okay?"

"Sure," Shizuo said flippantly, taking a bite of cookie and then offering the other half to Izaya. This time the information dealer declined.

"I can only handle so much sweetness in one day. Thanks, though."

The boy shrugged, returning to his snack with little more thought.

Izaya caught himself smiling fondly, but hastily wiped the expression off his face when a man in a suspiciously expensive suit entered the cafe. Slipping into his usual business attitude, Izaya stood to greet him.

"Nishida-san. So nice to meet you in person at last."

The yakuza man bowed briefly, but his gaze immediately found Shizuo. The child, as per Izaya's instructions, kept his head down.

"Do you babysit on the side, Information Broker?" the man asked snidely, taking a seat before Izaya. "If you're so strapped for cash, maybe I shouldn't rely on your intel."

Izaya didn't flinch. "This is the younger brother of a dear friend of mine," he said, sitting beside Shizuo and resisting the urge to move closer to the child. "I'm doing him a favor by keeping an eye on the kid. Our business shouldn't take that long, anyway."

The man didn't look too pleased, a patronizing sneer coming to his lips. "I suppose not, especially since we've got a little brat for company."

The sound of someone other than _him_ calling Shizuo a brat brought the unexpected taste of bile to the back of Izaya's throat, but he didn't object. Instead he pulled a flash drive out of his pocket. "Here are the files you wanted. I assume you need proof of their authenticity?"

"It would be helpful," the man replied, so Izaya pulled a small laptop out from under his coat.

"Take a look," the broker invited him, plugging the drive in and turning the screen toward his client. The yakuza man skimmed through the files, nodding slightly.

"You really are first-rate slime, Orihara."

"Why thank you," Izaya crooned, but another voice spoke up quietly from beside him.

"He isn't slime."

Izaya side-eyed the child beside him; the client straight-up gaped, then began to chuckle.

"Looks like you have a little admirer, Orihara," he laughed, and Izaya felt his lip twitch with the beginnings of a grimace. "You'd better learn real fast, kid— this sort of business is nothing to get involved in." As he said it, he reached over and gave Shizuo's cup a small shove, sending the milk splashing into his lap and the boy bolting out of his chair.

"Hey!" Izaya was on his feet before he could think it through. "Your business is with me. Leave the kid out of it."

"The kid involved himself when he spoke up in your defense," the yakuza man observed dryly, standing to match the other's posture.

"That doesn't matter." Izaya didn't know what he was saying; his head was spinning, and for once he wasn't in perfect control. But the words kept coming anyway. "I don't do business with men who make it a point to bully children."

It was a lie. _He_ bullied children, and on a regular basis at that.

It was this particular child that he wouldn't tolerate cruelty towards. It was his Shizu-chan, and he couldn't quite understand why.

The yakuza man sniffed, tilting his chin up. "And I don't do business with men who wear such deplorable weakness on their sleeves. Call me back when you lose the sentimentality and grow a pair."

"Don't..." it was a squeaky voice, but somehow still made both men stiffen and take notice, "talk to him like that!!"

And then the cafe table was flying, flung at the the yakuza man. The man's eyes bugged, but he just narrowly managed to hit the ground before the _table_ hit _him_.

"Don't talk to him like that!!" Shizuo repeated, breathing hard and with wild eyes locked on the object of his wrath. Izaya watched in awe as he reached over and grabbed another table, flinging it at the now-fleeing man.

"I take it back!" the yakuza representative shouted, once he had reached the door. "You aren't a brat— you're a fucking monster! Keep your damn beast on a leash next time you try to deal with us, Orihara!"

"Be a bit smarter with your words the next time _you_ try to do business with _me_!" Izaya called after him, finding a grin plastered across his face despite himself. He had just lost a deal worth a couple-million yen but, mysteriously, he didn't particularly mind. He had lost a couple-million yen, but somehow he still felt very much like he had won.

Like he _and Shizuo_ had won.

Then he heard the soft sniffle, and turned to meet the child's devastated gaze.

"I'm sorry..." the child said miserably, tears gathering in hopeless numbers at the corners of his eyes. "I blew it... I couldn't control myself... again...! I never can...! And now I'm messing things up for you, too...!"

"No... no, no, no!" Izaya said fervently, crouching down on front of Shizuo and grabbing the child's shoulders. He was still smiling. "No, that was _brilliant_...! Shizuo, that was brilliant! I mean... ha! Did you see his face? He had no right to talk to us like that, and did he ever learn his lesson!"

"... He called me a monster..." Shizuo said quietly, those tears spilling over and tumbling down his flushed cheeks. Izaya didn't hesitate to pull the child into a tight embrace, then held him out and peppered his salty cheeks with kisses until Shizuo was struggling and spluttering objections.

"St... Stop...! What're you...?! Izaya...!!"

The information dealer laughed, then; rested his forehead against the child's, and they both fell still for a synchronized moment.

"You're no more of a monster than me," Izaya murmured, then chuckled softly and placed one more kiss on the boy's forehead, "Shizu-chan."


	6. Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever I can't bring myself to do actual work, I go to a coffee shop. It makes me feel like a real live actual writer. So this update comes to you directly from my favorite coffee shop hangout.

Izaya led Shizuo from the cafe with all the confidence of someone who _hadn't_ just destroyed half the establishment; no one questioned them, at least not out loud.

The child seemed to be moving badly— not obviously so, but enough for Izaya to take note. His limp seemed to be returning, too.

_"I wasn't... as tough... as a kid."_

"C'mere..." Izaya said after a moment, then grunted as he hefted Shizuo onto his shoulders; he was a bit big for the seat, but that hardly mattered to either of them. The child was still somewhat sniffly, and Izaya craned his neck so he could look up at him. "How about Russia Sushi for lunch, hmm? Would that cheer you up, you bratty little beast?"

Shizuo's small hands clenched and unclenched in his hair. "... Mm-hmm..." he murmured moodily, and Izaya smiled.

"Russia Sushi it is, then!" The information dealer strolled down the street without discernible hesitation, ignoring the strange looks he and the child on his shoulders were getting. The few who recognised Shizuo did a double-take, then dismissed it as an uncanny lookalike— the scene was far too strange to be real, after all.

For both Shizuo and Izaya, the unthinkable was quickly becoming the norm.

"Welcome!" Simon greeted them graciously, not batting an eye. "Izaya— looking well! Shizuo— looking young!"

"Thanks, Simon!" the information broker replied cheerily. "We'll take a table, thanks!"

"This way, right ahead!" the Russian motioned them in, nodding and smiling serenely. "Got good fish today— got best tuna, yes. Fish good for growing children, helps with tallness!"

"Thanks a bunch, Simon," Shizuo grumbled, even as Izaya lifted him down and set him on his own feet. "I'll keep that in mind." But he was smiling slightly, and that was certainly something.

"You can get anything you want," Izaya said, shoving the menu across the table. He was a bit pleased when the child, upon Simon's arrival at the table, pointed to five or six different things he wanted. "And two orders of otoro for me, please!"

"... Thanks."

"No worries, no worries!" Izaya said easily, waving one hand. "It's nothing. I've spent more on lunches with clients I intend to blow off entirely."

"I mean... for earlier, too..." Shizuo said, a bit gruffly. "For what you said."

Izaya staled in his confident chatter for a moment, then found himself surprisingly flustered as he tried to find a response that wouldn't come off as insincere. That had never been a problem for him, but then again he had never before tried to sound sincere and _be honest_ at the same time. So eventually he settled on a mumble of, "Yeah, well... it was true, so..." and a sheepish grin.

Shizuo returned the smile, although his was more subdued. He perked up a bit when the food arrived, and he dug in with a quick, "Thanks for the food!"

Izaya felt his chest fill with the warmth that was becoming familiar to him, but he still tried not to let it show as he tucked into his own lunch. He had so many memories of Russia Sushi— of Simon forcing himself and Shizuo to share a meal after one of their many fights.

_Why did we... ever stop coming here together...?_

_Right— because Simon stopped forcing us. ... And because we hate each other._

Izaya was distracted from his line of thought when another customer entered the restaurant. It was an interesting development, he thought, and watched over Shizuo's shoulder as the bedraggled man made his way to the counter.

"Still no sign of him?" His voice was loud and distressed, and Shizuo's head snapped up. "Damn! Where could he—?!"

"Tom-san!" Instantly Shizuo was up, hurrying towards his employer; Izaya rose a bit reluctantly, and caught up in time to see Tom's eyes bug in a truly comical manner as the small child trotted up to him. Shizuo grabbed hold of his employer's pants with both hands, and Izaya felt a surprising stab of jealousy. "Tom-san, don't worry about me, really!"

"No way..." Tom mumbled, then half-crouched, half-fell to the floor. "Shizuo?"

"Yep," Izaya confirmed, coming up and putting one hand on the child's head; his anxious feelings were eased slightly when Shizuo stretched his neck to press up into his touch. "Little Shizu-chan's been staying with me for the past few days."

Tom's eyes narrowed mistrustfully. "What did you do?"

His voice was surprisingly harsh, and Izaya felt a sting of indignation. "I didn't—" the information broker began, but Shizuo spoke up before he could.

"It wasn't the flea's fault, really. Shinra did this. But it was an accident, so don't be mad at him either, Tom-san. I'm sorry I didn't call," he added, looking down and tiny shuffling feet. "It was really irresponsible of me."

"D-Don't worry about that..." his employer mumbled, glancing periodically at Izaya. "I'm glad you're okay. I thought something bad must have happened."

Shizuo's eyes widened sharply, filling with unwilling tears. He wiped crossly at them with the back of one arm, then grabbed Tom's hand with an angry huff.

"Come eat with us. Izaya's treat."

Izaya was considerably less pleased about buying lunch for Tom than he was about buying it for Shizuo, but... _whatever makes the kid happy, I guess…_ So he trailed after them, then sat across from where Shizuo had thrust his employer down next to his own seat.

"Yeah, yeah, order what you want," he told the man, waving one hand and taking a bite of his own sushi. Tom, after a moment of hesitation and a glance at the spread Shizuo had in front of him, waved Simon over and ordered.

As soon as the food arrived, Shizuo dove into an abridged version of events told in a childishly excited way. He left out most of the personal details, and Izaya wasn't sure if he wanted Tom knowing even as much as Shizuo was disclosing. But he stayed quiet; ate his otoro and kept a watchful eye on the two across from him.

"But I really am sorry for not calling you," the boy finished his tale, hanging his head. "I should have. It was... irresponsible; immature. Sorry."

"Well... I-I guess you have an excuse for acting… _immature_..." Tom said, then shook his head. "Don't worry about it. These are definitely... extenuating circumstances."

"You're right..." Izaya couldn't help but put in, a threatening edge to his voice. Tom took notice, although Shizuo's eyes were still downcast.

"You'd... be right to... to fire me..." He looked close to tears, and instantly both men were on their feet.

"I'll speak with the company! You won't be fired, Shizuo, I promise!"

"I'll back up your story! I'll drag Shinra in to testify, too!"

Shizuo sniffled, but he was blinking back the tears. "... Okay..."

Tom and Izaya exchanged a glance; the later sat down first, shoving a plate up under Shizuo's nose.

"Eat. Don't worry about it now. You don't have to worry about it, period. Just eat your lunch." Then he shot a cheerful, slimy smile at Tom. "You too: sit down, enjoy the food I bought, and stop scaring my Shizu-chan."

_"My Shizu-chan..."_ It wasn't a new phrase, but it rang far truer than it ever had. And Izaya nearly choked on it, popping a piece of otoro into his mouth to conceal his startled gag.

Tom, looking a bit resentful and exceedingly confused, obeyed— at least so far as sitting down, sighing, and taking a bite of his sushi. And Izaya, trying to take comfort in the fact that he had control of the situation, forced a haughty smile.

"Well... it sounds like my worst fears were way off-base..." Tom said after a moment, then shrugged. "You've been staying with Izaya until now (for whatever reason...), but what do you say to staying with me until this is all sorted out? Considering I know now, I mean."

Izaya's spine stiffened. The idea made a lot of sense, and he almost spoke up in support of the plan. Tom had always been a much more logical choice for Shizuo's temporary guardian.

And yet...

"You know how small my apartment is," Tom continued, oblivious, "but I'll make room. The couch is really comfortable."

"I know..." Shizuo murmured softly. "I've slept there... before."

"Right!" Tom said cheerfully, and Izaya felt his hands clench beneath the table. "My house is always open to you, Shizuo. You know that, right?"

And the child's face lit up in a bewildered, honest smile. "Th... Thanks, Tom-san...!"

_Wait…_

_Wait, don't…_

He couldn't say a thing.

"But... I also have to say 'no thanks.'"

Izaya's head snapped over to look at Shizuo; the boy's cheeks were brushed with pink powder, and he was looking at his lap.

He was smiling.

"Izaya... he's been really... good, about the whole thing," the child said, and then looked up at Tom. "I want to see it out with him. But... thanks. Yeah, I mean it. Thanks."

"No problem," his boss replied, obviously bewildered. "The offer stands, you know, any time."

"Thanks," Shizuo said, yet again. Then he looked over at Izaya, who hoped that he didn't look too astonished and relieved— which was exactly how he was feeling. "Shinra said he'd have this sorted out in a week anyway, tops. So it shouldn't be much longer."

The statement hit Izaya like the shock of waking from an especially vivid dream. _Right... I did tell Shinra..._

_... a week._

"So a couple of days, I guess," the child continued, turning back to his employer. "Then I'll be back on the job, and I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

"Don't... don't worry about that for now, okay?" Tom said, echoing Izaya's earlier sentiment. "Come back to work when you're ready. Just don't drop off the radar like that, okay? I was worried."

Shizuo nodded determinedly, then repeated, "I promise!"

... … … 

"How's your ankle?"

Shizuo made an exasperated little sound in the back of his throat. "Of course you noticed, you nosey flea."

Izaya smiled wickedly. "I notice everything about you."

"Fair point."

"So?" the information broker asked, bouncing Shizuo slightly on his back. The child clung tighter, momentarily choking his mount.

"It's... fine. Yeah. It stings a little, but it's fine."

Izaya felt his brow furrow without his permission. "I'll know if you're lying if I drop you."

"Don't!" Shizuo objected, wrapping his legs around Izaya's thin waist and once again tightening small arms around the throat he had, at one time, wanted very much to snap. The information broker laughed.

"Alright... but just this once, Shizu-brat."

They walked in silence for a moment, but Izaya's thoughts were whirling almost violently inside his skull. He didn't like the idea that the situation would soon be— quote/unquote —remedied. He didn't like the idea that Tom's offer had almost robbed him of this walk back to his apartment; of the feeling of Shizuo Heiwajima pressed against him.

_When did I start..._

_... missing..._

_... what I never even...?_

"Flea?"

Izaya realized that he had unconsciously slowed, wrapped up in his muddled thoughts as he was. So he forced a cheery laugh.

"What's up?"

"Are you okay?"

"Fine!" It was an easy lie, and Izaya picked up his pace again. "You're just a bit heavy."

"I can walk," Shizuo offered, but the other shook his head.

"You banged yourself up at the coffee shop, right?" he guessed, and felt the boy on his back shift. "It's not just your ankle, either."

"... Doesn't matter," Shizuo grunted, and Izaya sighed.

"You should try to hold back until you're back to normal," he said chidingly. "You'll just keep injuring yourself."

"I'm fine with that," Shizuo muttered. "I've always been fine with that. I may as well, you know? What have I got to lose?"

"Such a shortsighted view!" Izaya lamented softly, good-humoredly. "And you managed to injure yourself defending me, your sworn enemy, on top of it!"

“If I can justify injuring myself for the sake of a temper tantrum, I can't hold back when it comes to defending you!" Shizuo snapped.

And Izaya, instinctively, asked, "Why should you defend me at all?"

"Because—!" the child began, then bit his lip. "... Because," he muttered moodily, then buried his face in Izaya's shoulder. "... 'Cause."

It was an effort for Izaya to keep his ribcage from shuddering as he drew a deep breath. And it was all he could manage to sound halfway sarcastic as he said, "Thanks for that tremendously specific answer, Shizu-chan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million and one thanks to everyone who's been reading or just started reading! Please leave a comment and/or kudos on your way out-- they really keep me going! <3 And I'll be quick about the next update, I promise. Things are about to get real interesting, anyway. ;3


	7. In the Face Of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who reviewed or left kudos on the last chapter! <3 Let this and subsequent updates speak of my undying gratitude. Q^Q 
> 
> I quite like this chapter. Then again... there's no going back for anyone now, you know. ;)
> 
> Also, I do feel the fic drifted majorly from the original prompt-- which focused on abuse. So this chapter deals a bit more with that. ^^

Again, that night, Izaya was woken at three in the morning by a soft, distressed shout.

This time, though, he was up and stumbling towards the sound even before he was fully awake.

He found Shizuo sitting up on his futon, small hands curled in his blanket. Hovering near the door, Izaya hesitated before entering.

"Shizu-chan?"

The boy looked up, tears streaking his face in the dim light, and instantly Izaya was moving to the futon. He sat with a respectful distance between him and the child, feeling that boundaries were still a bit vaguely defined, but opened his arms when Shizuo edged toward him.

And then the boy was flying at him; was fixed on his lap, clinging tightly to him as Izaya wrapped him in a comforting embrace.

"I can't—!"

"Shh..." Izaya soothed, rubbing the boy's back. He had comforted people in jest before, or as part of some deception, but he couldn't recall a time it had been genuine. Still, he knew what to do; knew to hold the child close and rock him gently; knew to listen. "No one's going to hurt you, I promise."

The words slipped out as easily as if they had been a lie, yet he did mean them.

"People always think it won't hurt me..." Shizuo whispered. "They think they can hit the monster and it won't hurt. But it does."

"Yeah..." Izaya murmured. "It does."

"My dad... he _wanted_ to hurt me... and the doctors, they didn't even think I was human..."

Izaya wanted to say something, but all the words that came to his mind seemed wrong. It irritated him, but Shizuo spoke again before he could get too agitated.

"Maybe... I am a monster. Maybe I deserve it... all he did... all they did... all they _do_..."

"Hey— hey!" Izaya gave him a gentle shake, then a slightly more insistent one. "Don't think like that. You've never done a _thing_ to deserve all the shit you've gotten. Never."

Shizuo sniffled. "That's a lie... and you know it."

The objection caught in Izaya's throat. _Me... of all people…_ he thought, tightening his grip fractionally on the small boy. _I've treated you... like…_

"Well, you deserve the shit _I_ give you," he said softly, and Shizuo stiffened, "but I deserve the shit _you_ give _me_ more. You're on the right side of that argument, anyway. I'm out of line most of the time."

Shizuo didn't reply, but he did begin to cry again. And Izaya held him tightly, rubbing his back and murmuring soothing nothings in his ear, wondering how and why he had ended up in such a situation.

Wondering why his heart was breaking for the child— for his worthy and supposedly hated rival.

"I promise, I'll never let it happen again..." He didn't know why he was saying it, but he did mean it. He _needed_ to say it, to keep his own heart from splitting open and drowning him in unexpected emotions. "Shizuo... I'll be here for you. I promise. You aren't alone in this thing, okay?"

When he had calmed enough to speak, Shizuo whimpered out, "Would you stay with me tonight...?" in such a soft voice that Izaya scarcely heard him.

The information dealer hesitated. It felt strange to hesitate after going so far already, but he knew that there would be no going back after this. If he stayed, there would never be any disentangling himself from the situation. He knew.

"Futons really are murder on my back, you know..." he began, and Shizuo turned wounded eyes up on him. But he didn't look heartbroken, just... mildly insulted.

"You fall asleep in your desk chair all the time."

Izaya nearly laughed, but his heart was too tender to manage it. Gazing down at the boy he had begun to feel something very precious for— and without even realizing it —his resolve crumbled.

"Now now, you didn't hear me out," he quipped, then scooped Shizuo up in his arms. He had grown rather fond of holding the child, and relished the feel of small arms looping around his neck. "You're coming back to bed with me, alright?"

Then it was Shizuo who hesitated, although eventually he buried his face in Izaya's chest and nodded.

"Okay."

… … … 

"Oops... broke another bone..."

The man didn't sound remorseful. Shizuo stuffed his fist farther into his mouth, tasting his own blood as he bit down.

"Your pain tolerance is getting ridiculously high..." the man observed mildly. "I'm having to resort to worse and worse things to punish you."

Shizuo felt tears sting his eyes, but he refused to give his tormentor the satisfaction. He was a fifteen year old, after all; he told himself he shouldn't cry so easily, not anymore. The man drummed broad fingers on the boy's mangled thigh, humming softly.

"You're a disgrace. A nuisance. It's unfortunate how you reflect back on this family even though I would gladly kill you myself if it weren't so much trouble."

Shizuo choked softly, but he didn't argue. He knew it was true, and he didn't begrudge the man his position.

He was a monster, disgraceful to his family and his father.

"Your mother cries about you every night.

"She's terrified of you."

Shizuo knew it was true.

"Dad?"

Father and son stiffened at the voice, and Shizuo's tears spilled suddenly over.

"Yes, Kasuka?"

"... Is Nii-chan with you?"

Shizuo's chest convulsed as his father replied, "Yes. We're just having a little chat about his behavior at the store today."

"Oh." Kasuka's voice sounded indifferent, but his brother could hear the tiny note of concern there.

"I'll be out in a sec!" he called out, somehow summoning the strength to keep his voice steady. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Kasuka!"

"Oh... okay!" the younger boy called back, and both father and son heard his shuffling footsteps move away from the door.

The man pushed down hard on Shizuo's broken leg, and the boy hardly managed to clamp down on the cry of anguish that came up his throat.

"And don't you dare make him into a monster like you, got it? In fact, stay away from him altogether.

"You can't possibly be a brother to him, not when the only things you'll bring him are pain and fear and _trouble_."

... ... …

"Dad? Where's Shizu-nii? Isn't he coming down for dinner?"

"He ate at his friend's house earlier," was the reply, as Shizuo nursed his broken leg in the bedroom directly above them.

Kasuka didn't argue, taking another bite of his rice. But he did ask, "Which friend?"

The mother dropped her spoon. But the father didn't flinch as he replied, "The Kadota boy."

And Kasuka replied simply, "Oh, okay," before blowing delicately at the spoonful of miso soup.

The woman shakily retrieved her spoon; the man calmly sipped his tea. And Kasuka didn't speak again, cleaning his plate and then excusing himself calmly from his parents' presence.

... ... ... 

Shizuo was over such cliched thoughts as suicide and heaven and hell. The pain was simply reality, and reality would change eventually.

_If I’m going to break my body anyway… fuck it. If they’re going to hate me anyway… fuck it._

He might be a monster, but he would live his own life— that was the conclusion he had reached.

He was curled beneath his blankets, planning his departure, when Kasuka came to his door. The younger let himself in without knocking.

"Nii-chan?" His voice was soft, and Shizuo poked his head out from under the covers.

"Kasuka. Hey." He tucked his broken leg subconsciously closer up under him. "What's up?"

The younger held out a bento box. "Dad told me you ate at Kadota-kun's house, but I know you get hungry sometimes."

Shizuo felt emotion choke him for a second, but he swallowed it down. "... Thanks. Yeah, I mean... thanks."

Kasuka nodded, and the food changed hands. Shizuo fought the urge to fall on it like a starved dog, setting it on his pillow.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

Shizuo stiffened, then laughed softly. "Yeah. It's just... it's time for me to be on my own, you know? Tom’s said he'll put me up for a week or two."

"That's good," Kasuka replied softly, then came forward and hugged his brother tightly. Shizuo, after a moment of surprised hesitation, returned the embrace. "Don't come visit, but don't lose touch, either. Okay?"

And Shizuo's voice was thick despite his best efforts, leg throbbing quietly beneath him, as he replied, "Okay."

... … … 

_"I don't know what you're getting at," Shizuo growled,_ "but leave my brother out of it."

Izaya held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. But doesn't that sound a bit suspicious to you?"

"I don't know what you're getting at," Shizuo repeated stubbornly. Izaya sighed, then, and got up.

"Fine, fine. I've got an errand to run. There's food in the fridge if you get hungry, okay?"

"... 'Kay."

"And don't leave the house," Izaya added. Shizuo nodded solemnly.

"I won't. Hurry back."

And Izaya found himself smiling. "I will."

The information broker bothered to hail a cab; he was in for a long trip, and he didn't fancy walking.

"I have an appointment," he said cooly, upon reaching the proper apartment building.

When the doorman regarded him mistrust fully, he gave a put-upon sigh and flashed a completely fake ID from a talent agency.

"I have an appointment," he repeated exasperatedly, and the uncertain doorman finally waved him through.

It was Ruri Hirijibe who answered the door. "Oh. It's you."

Izaya bowed grandly. "Miss Hollywood," he greeted her, and she stiffened. "Might your emotionless master be in?"

The girl regarded him uneasily for a moment, then stepped aside. "Come on in. I'll go get him."

Vainglory hissed as Izaya sat down casually on the couch; he hissed back, and the small cat let out an indignant shriek before running up to his owner's feet. Yuhei Hanejima— Kasuka Heiwajima, rather —picked the kitten up and placed him in Ruri's arms.

"Orihara-san. To what do I owe this visit?"

The information dealer crossed his legs casually. "Just a bit of business regarding your brother."

"I figured as much." Motioning to Ruri, he sat down in the chair opposite the guest. "Anything to drink?"

"Coffee would be lovely."

"Could you grab us two coffees, Ruri?" Kasuka asked, and the girl hesitated. Then he added, "Please?" and she obeyed.

"I've figured it all out," Izaya began matter-of-factly. "Your past... the abuse... your parents' deaths. Shizuo hasn't told me outright yet, but I have a feeling it's only a matter of time. So you can speak frankly without betraying any of his secrets."

"How did you find out?" Kasuka didn't bother denying anything, as Izaya had anticipated.

"A strange series of events has Shizuo staying at my house in a rather compromised state," he replied, and Kasuka stiffened fractionally. "Don't worry, don't worry— he's in fine shape, and I really don't intend to harm him, not at this point."

"How can I trust that, Orihara?" Kasuka asked, his voice low. Ruri returned with their coffee, glancing at both boys before leaving reluctantly. She did, however, rest a hand on Kasuka's shoulder as she passed him.

"I'll be just in the other room if you need me."

"Thanks," he acknowledged, laying his hand over hers for a moment. Then, once she had departed, he turned back to Izaya and repeated, "How can I trust that?"

The information broker sighed. "I expected this..." he said, then pulled out his phone. He dialed a familiar number, then held his finger to his lips and switched it to speakerphone.

"Yeah?"

"Such a polite greeting," Izaya quipped, keeping a careful eye on Kasuka. Predictably, the movie star gave no reaction.

"Well, what do you want?" Shizuo asked, sounding annoyed.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"What?"

"Lunch— it's lunchtime," Izaya said, and Shizuo grumbled something disgruntled. "You haven't eaten since breakfast. As your temporary guardian, I must insist..."

"Fine, fine... stupid, overbearing flea..."

"There's a small cake on the left of the bottom shelf. But eat something healthy, first."

"Okay!" Shizuo's voice was brighter at the mention of cake, and he even added, "Thanks!" before hanging up.

Izaya smiled innocently up at Kasuka. "Enough proof for you?"

There was a micro-grimace creasing Kasuka's brow. "He sounds... young."

"That's Shinra's fault," Izaya said, shrugging. "Give him a call; he'll fill you in."

Kasuka did just that, and after a brief conversation with Shinra addressed Izaya again.

"Well. This is an interesting situation."

"Right?" Izaya asked, then laughed. "Who would've thought?"

"It makes sense then, that you would know," Kasuka observed, and Izaya nodded.

"Shizuo tried to keep it from you. He still thinks you don't know."

"We're brothers," was the reply. "I know. I always knew."

"But you didn't step in."

"He didn't want me to."

Izaya sighed softly. "So what made you do it, then?"

"Shizuo-nii didn't want me to know, but he hardly cared about their fates. That was solely my own decision."

"..." Izaya smiled a scummy smile. "You're a murderer."

Kasuka didn't flinch, but he also didn't answer.

"Did they ever abuse _you_?"

The young star shook his head. "Never."

"But you still killed them."

"Of course. He's my brother."

Izaya's smile widened, and he stood. "You don't want him to know."

"It doesn't matter to me if he knows or not, when he's ready to know," Kasuka said with a shrug. "But right now I think the knowledge would do more damage than good to him."

"I agree," Izaya said simply. "So I won't tell him. I just wanted to confirm my theory."

"Then leave. You've confirmed it."

Izaya's eyes narrowed slightly, his smile curling up. "You're more of a monster than any of us, you know that?"

"I know," the younger Heiwajima said easily. "You can blame my parents for that."

Izaya laughed lightly, then raised a hand in farewell. But as he turned to leave, Kasuka called out.

"Orihara."

Izaya turned, and was less than surprised by the intensity glinting in his otherwise dead eyes.

"Yes?"

"You don't own a car, but that doesn't mean you aren't vulnerable in many ways."

"Why haven't you tried before?" Izaya asked, and the other shrugged.

"Because I thought you might be good for Shizuo-nii. I think I was right. But now that we have everything out in the open, best the threat be spoken aloud, too."

Izaya's smile took on a condescending accent. "I have many enemies, Yuhei. If I show kindness to or develop a fondness for your brother, it won't be because I'm afraid of you."

And the barest ghost of a smirk came to Kasuka's lips. "I'll hold you to that, Orihara."

... ... …

His conversation with Kasuka churning in his mind, Izaya forwent the cab and set to walking home.

_... Shizu-chan..._

_... you really do have people who care about you._

It didn't occur to him, at the time, that the word he was really looking for was love. But he did slow, then stop in front of a convenience store, gazing up at an advertisement for pudding.

_He likes... pudding. He would enjoy... I should…_

Shizuo, he remembered willingly, had seemed the cliched picture of the chronically underfed teenage boy— eternally hungry. He had had a habit, Izaya recalled reluctantly, of stealing bits and pieces of other people's lunches, complaining that he had eaten his earlier or between morning classes.

His eyes had lit up the day that Shinra offered him a pudding cup that must have been worth no more than 150 yen. Izaya distinctly remembered laughing at him.

It wasn't a conscious decision to turn into the shop, just a thing he felt he should do. A vague, stale sense guilt made his stomach flutter, but the anticipation of seeing the child's small face light up made him smile.

_Pudding it is... yes._

Izaya was used to waking alone.

For the first time in his memory, he woke up to the presence of a warm body pressed against his.

His bed was plenty big, but somehow they had ended up cuddled up at the center of the soft mattress.

"Good morning, Shizu-chan..." he whispered into the brunette's soft hair. The child gave a sleepy murmur but didn't wake, so Izaya slid carefully out from beside him. He wrapped the blankets tightly around the small body, then tip-toed from the room.

His apartment looked exactly the same as it always had. But for some strange reason the air seemed warm, and Izaya's heart was much lighter than he was used to.

_This is... interesting._

The information broker made his way to the kitchen, opening and peering into the refrigerator. It was shockingly empty, and for a moment he simply stared. But then a smile melted into place on his face, and he closed the door.

 _I suppose... having a second person around_ does _change things, hmm...?_

There was a quiet rapping on the door, and Izaya straightened his back. Then he kept going, stretching into a luxurious backbend with hands extended over his head, groaning softly with the sensation. Giving himself a shake, he trotted to the front door.

_Maybe Namie forgot her key...? No... no, it's too early for her to be clocking in..._

_So who...?_

The second he opened the door, it hit him. The group of thugs outside were the embodiment of a very rare thing— a detail that had slipped Izaya's mind; a forgotten complication. And he berated himself for letting it happen.

Of course, none of that showed on his face.

"Good morning, gentlemen," he said instead, and the man in the lead growled.

"We need to talk, Orihara." Shoving past Izaya, he led his men into the living room. Izaya let him, closing the door behind them.

"Whatever about?" he asked innocently, and quirked an eyebrow when the thug rounded on him.

"You hired us to give Shizuo Heiwajima a hard time," he growled. "Well look, the bastard hasn't come back to his apartment in a week. You either gave us a bogus address or the bastard skipped town."

"Interesting," Izaya commented, and the other's face reddened.

"We aren't the type of people you fuck with, Orihara."

"I know," the broker said easily. "That's _why_ I hired you. But look, the situation has changed." He tucked his hands into his pockets; straightened his shoulders slightly. "Keep the advance for your trouble, but I'm calling off the job."

The thug's face twisted. "What?"

"You aren't to go after Heiwajima," Izaya said simply. "You're dismissed. Keep the payment as compensation for your time."

The thug was beginning to bristle, his men murmuring amongst one another. "Well, we owe the bastard a good dose of punishment anyhow," he said, taking a step forward. "And when we do—”

"You will _not_ ," Izaya mirrored his step, "raise a hand against Shizuo Heiwajima."

The two men stared at one another for a moment, the thug's temper slowly rising higher and higher. But though Izaya's calm exterior stayed intact, he had begun to radiate something slimy and malevolent. He held his ground, hair comically tangled and clad in the clothes he had fallen asleep in, and slowly narrowed his eyes.

"If you go after him, I'll take you apart piece by worthless, incompetent piece," he said calmly, then smiled cheerily. "And spread the word amongst your scummy little layer of society. No one hassles Shizuo Heiwajima, in Shinjuku or 'Bukuro, without answering to me, got it?"

The thug crumbled, but he still struggled to save some face by saying, "Fine— but only because we are still technically in your employ. You better not try to do any business with us again, though."

And Izaya's smile grew. "Wouldn't dream of it, gentlemen. The same to you."

After effectively chasing the grungy lot out of his apartment, Izaya returned to find Shizuo still asleep where he had left him. Smiling gently, he moved to wake the boy.

"Good morning, Shizu-chan."

"Nnf... 'morning, Flea."

Izaya chuckled, then motioned. "Namie will be here soon. I'll have her make breakfast."

"M'kay..." Shizuo mumbled, pushing himself up and rubbing at his eyes. He yawned hugely, and Izaya felt his heart swell.

_So stupidly cute when he's sleepy…_

"C'mon now, wake up," he crooned, then laughed and offered his hand. "Come on." 

And Shizuo accepted it, smiling drowsily and pulling himself out of bed. "'Kay."

... ... …

"You hired us to give Shizuo Heiwajima a hard time."

Shizuo, halfway through the bedroom door, stiffened. He ducked back behind the wall, listening silently.

"Well look, the bastard hasn't come back to his apartment in a week. You either gave us a bogus address or the bastard skipped town."

"Interesting." That was Izaya speaking. _Izaya... my... enemy. That’s… right..._ Shizuo's heart pounded as he realized it. _Why... he is... why should I... expect any sudden change...? He's... still…_

"We aren't the type of people you fuck with, Orihara."

"I know. That's _why_ I hired you." Shizuo felt his stomach twist. "But look, the situation has changed. Keep the advance for your trouble, but I'm calling off the job."

"What?"

_What...?_

"You aren't to go after Heiwajima." Shizuo's stomach flipped. "You're dismissed. Keep the payment as compensation for your time."

"Well, we owe the bastard a good dose of punishment anyway. And when we do—"

"You will _not_ raise a hand against Shizuo Heiwajima." Shizuo felt his whole body tingle with the words; with the serious tone that Izaya had struck. _He... he…_

And then the information broker continued.

"If you go after him, I'll take you apart piece by worthless, incompetent piece. And spread the word amongst your scummy little layer of society. No one hassles Shizuo Heiwajima, in Shinjuku or 'Bukuro, without answering to me, got it?"

It was far more than anyone had ever done in Shizuo's defense, and he felt a strange and powerful warmth gathering deep inside him. _Izaya…_ Tears sprang to his eyes— tears of amazement and confusion and gratitude. But a far more potent emotion— one he had no name for —was swelling in his chest, so strong that he nearly choked on it.

"Fine— but only because we are still technically in your employ. You better not try to do any business with us again, though."

"Wouldn't dream of it, gentlemen. The same to you." Izaya's tone was cheerful, and Shizuo listened until he heard the door close behind the men. Then he scrambled, as quickly as he could, into the bed; feigned sleep. By the time Izaya entered the room, he was still and silent where the information dealer had left him.

A gentle hand appeared on his shoulder.

"Good morning, Shizu-chan."

"Nnf... 'morning, Flea."

Izaya laughed, and it was an unexpectedly warm sound. "Namie will be here soon. I'll have her make breakfast."

"M'kay..." Shizuo replied, pushing himself up and rubbing at his eyes in an effort to look like he had just woken up. He feigned a huge yawn, and was surprised by the tender expression that appeared on Izaya's face.

"C'mon now, wake up," he murmured, then laughed again and held out his hand. "Come on." 

Shizuo accepted it without reservations, wondering how things had changed so very much in such a short time. With Izaya's help he pulled himself out of the overly-soft bed.

"'Kay."

They made their way together into the living room, still hand in hand. But when Izaya began to pull away, Shizuo tightened his grip. It was almost painful, the force with which his tiny heart was hammering against his ribs, but he made himself look up at his established enemy.

"What is it?" Izaya asked.

And Shizuo gathered himself before saying, "I... I don't hate you, Flea...!"

Izaya stared for a moment, bewildered, and then began to chuckle. He crouched, although Shizuo turned his flaming face downward, and took the child's shoulder gently.

"Nor I you, Shizu-chan." And he kissed the boy's forehead. "You should know that by now."


	8. Have you ever...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it comes, guys......   
> ~~(Shinra and Izaya's friendship is so precious to me...)~~
> 
> I'm so delighted and humbled and overjoyed by the support I've gotten on this fic! Please accept these bits and pieces of my soul as thanks for all the lovely comments, kudos, and general readership. Q^Q

Shinra, broken collarbone and all, was incredibly proud of himself for making the deadline set for him by Izaya a week earlier. It was nearly midnight, but no matter— he had made it, and so he excitedly dialed his best friend's number.

"Izaya? Izaya! I did it! It's fixed! Yeah, I actually made the deadline! Whenever you want to bring him— huh? ... What? ... Really?"

Shinra blinked, holding the phone away from his face and staring at it in disbelief for a moment. Then he returned it to his ear.

"Yeah... yeah. Okay... um... are you sure? Okay, Izaya... whatever you say... 'night." And he hung up.

"What was that all about?" Celty asked as he came to sit heavily beside her. Shinra closed his eyes, letting his head loll back over the edge of the couch.

"Something about 'we're already settled in for the night, so call back tomorrow...'" he murmured, then sighed. "Ohhh, I really hope nothing disastrous happened..."

... ... ... 

"Who was that?"

Izaya smiled at the sleepy question, idly petting the boy's soft brunette hair. "Shinra. He says that damn machine of his is fixed."

Shizuo opened his eyes. "Oh."

"'Oh?'" Izaya echoed with a laugh. "I expected you to be excited."

"I am, but..." The child trailed off, then pressed his head back into Izaya's touch.

The information broker obligingly continued his stroking. "Yeah..." he agreed with the unspoken statement, a bit wistfully. "Yeah. I get it." He lay down, then, and Shizuo came with him, cuddling back into his arch nemesis.

"Are we going to go back to the way we were?"

Izaya chuckled. "I don't think we could if we wanted to."

"... Good."

"Go to sleep now," Izaya murmured, kissing the top of the child's head. And Shizuo snuggled a bit closer before obeying, his steady breathing soothing the information dealer until he too fell asleep.

... … … 

For the first time in memory, Izaya slept through a phone call.

He slept through four, actually: one from a client and three from a very concerned Dr. Kishitani.

Shizuo murmured sleepily when the information dealer rolled over, covering his eyes with one forearm. _Well... an abused kid who's tormented by nightmares and a trickster who has too many enemies to sleep soundly..._

_... And we both slept through the night._

"What's up...?" Shizuo asked drowsily, then stretched. "Oh. 'Morning."

"Good morning," Izaya replied, staring disgruntledly at his phone. But he tossed it onto his nightstand without returning any of the calls. "How did you sleep?"

"Kinda well, actually..." Shizuo admitted, then smiled. "Yeah."

Izaya caught himself smiling fondly, but didn't bother to stop. "Good."

The two of them got up; took amicable turns brushing teeth and washing faces. Then, as Izaya glanced into the kitchen— the refrigerator, he knew, was still empty —he ran one hand through his hair.

"... Let's catch breakfast out, on the way to Shinra's."

_On the way to Shinra's._ It was a strangely melancholy phrase, the feeling reflected in both of their faces. But neither of them dared to voice their reluctance, and so off they went.

Izaya, perhaps accidentally but probably not, forgot to take even a single cellphone with him.

"Let's go to Sakura Leaf!" It was Shizuo's suggestion, and the farthest possible cafe from Shinra's house while still qualifying as in the general area of Ikebukuro. "Your treat, right?"

And Izaya smiled. "Of course. Sounds like the perfect plan."

... ... …

Celty Sturluson had had a bad feeling about the situation from the beginning.

It was noon— after the sixth unanswered call to Izaya —when she took matters into her own hands.

"I'm going to look for them," she told Shinra, who could only nod mutely. He'd worked himself into such a wide-eyed state of guilty panic that Celty wondered if he could even read her screen. "It's going to be okay."

"I-I should have known better..." the doctor stammered. "One of them's killed the other, Celty, I just know it...! Oh... oh, this is all my fault...! I took the whole thing too lightly! They seemed to be getting on alright when Izaya called me a few days ago, but... oh, Celty, what did I _do_?"

"I'll find them both and bring them back here, okay? I promise." The dullahan didn't believe her own words. Silently, she was swearing to ring Izaya's neck if anything had happened— for Shinra's sake as well as Shizuo's.

Upon retrieving Shooter, the capable courier took off through the streets of Ikebukuro. Finding a single person was, even for her, a needle in a haystack proposition— not impossible, but time consuming. Luckily she ran into someone who didn't find it nearly as difficult.

"Oh, Celty-san!" Anri Sonohara smiled cheerfully, bowing in greeting. "How are you?"

"I could be better," the dullahan replied. "May I ask you a favor?"

"O-Of course."

"Do any of your Saika's children know where Izaya Orihara is?"

After a moment of trance-like concentration, Anri nodded. "He's... yes, he's at Sakura Leaf… the cafe. There's... a child with him."

Celts shoulders shuddered with an initial feeling of relief. "The child is alive, right?"

Anri looked justly startled. "Um... yes! He's... um... yes, it sounds like they're just... h-having brunch...?"

Celty fidgeted anxiously. _Just having brunch? Izaya and Shizuo?_ "Thank you, Anri," she held up, then hurried back to Shooter and sped off, reassured and yet unnerved by the unlikelihood of what she had been told.

... … … 

Izaya had never considered the act of kidnapping quite so seriously.

But each time it crossed his mind, he eventually let the idea go with a sigh. The logistical and practical problems of such a kidnapping aside, he did have a vague desire to see Shizuo restored to normal. What was eating at him was the uncertainty. What would their relationship look like? What would it become?

What had already sprung up between them?

They both heard Shooter long before the headless rider and her horse came into view. Shizuo made a brief, joking suggestion that they "make a run for it," and both of them laughed. Then they stood, Izaya paid, and the two made their way to the street to meet Celty Sturluson.

"Poor Shinra is worried sick!" was the first thing that Celty held up, her hand shaking with anger. "Shame on you! Mostly you, Orihara, but shame on both of you!"

Shizuo hung his head; Izaya put a casual arm around his shoulders and lowered the headless rider's phone with his free hand.

"I'll make it up to him. Sorry, Celty." And he flashed a smile that barely qualified as underhanded.

Celty didn't bother to argue— she wasn't sure she would have had the words to if she had tried. So instead she motioned them both onto Shooter, who had already assumed the form of a shadowy, headless horse. Izaya tried to get on right behind Shizuo, but Celty placed herself firmly between them.

"I can't ride with you both in front of me," the dullahan informed him crossly. "And the very front is the safest spot for Shizuo."

"And the very back is the bumpiest ride," Izaya grumbled with a sore smile; Celty didn't bother to confirm or deny the statement as the information broker wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.

One relatively short— and unpleasant, for Izaya —horseback ride later, they had arrived. All three dismounted, Shizuo fretting over Izaya's apparent misery as Celty tended briefly to Shooter. Then, at the dullahan's urging, all three of them were trudging up the apartment building stairs.

"Sorry to worry you, Shinra," Izaya said immediately, and was a bit caught off guard when the doctor threw his good arm around him in an embrace. 

"I was worried, you jerk...!" he muttered, tightening his grip for a moment before pulling back and kneeing the information broker in his most tender spot— hard. Then Shinra turned, crouching down and smiling brightly at Shizuo. "He didn't do anything awful, did he?" he asked, as Izaya crumpled slowly and quietly to the floor. "I'll kick him harder~" 

Shizuo, although obviously trying hard not to laugh, shook his head. "I-It's okay, really. He was fine.

"He was... good."

For Celty, it was a bit hard to believe. But Shinra only nodded, then motioned for everyone to follow him— with the arm that wasn't in a sling. Izaya had a bit of trouble getting to his feet, but Shizuo hung back until he managed it.

"That was low, Shinra..." the informant whimpered, bringing up the rear as the small group entered Shinra's laboratory. "How awful... you're an awful friend, you know that?"

"Ah, but I'm the only one you've got," the doctor quipped. "And besides, what sort of friend are you for not answering my _seven_ very concerned voicemails?" 

"An awful one," Izaya admitted, looking suitably admonished.

Shizuo walked straight to the machine in the far corner— not hurriedly, but as if in a sort of trace. Izaya watched him with a strange sense of loss gathering among his insides, but was surprised when the boy turned back and met his gaze.

"What'll happen?"

It was such a blunt question, and so trusting; asked as if he believed, with every fiber of his being, that Izaya knew the answer.

So the information broker smiled— a smile that almost managed to be confident. "We'll just have to wait and see, Shizu-chan."

The child shot him an annoyed glare, then pointedly turned his back. "I hope you've got my clothes, Shinra."

"Right here!" the doctor called, presenting a familiar set of bartender's clothes. The boy slipped behind the strange machine in order to change, then emerged looking disgruntled in his exceptionally oversized clothes.

_This is really happening._

Izaya refused to let his anxiety show, but a very large part of him wanted to hold the child in his arms for just one more moment— or forever. But he wouldn’t voice such a thing; wasn't sure he could bring himself to even if he set his mind to it.

For the first time he could remember, his chest ached with physical pain.

_Will I ever..._

_... be able to hold you again…?_

"Hey Flea!"

Izaya blinked, surprised to find how totally he had spaced out. Shizuo had turned and was watching him, limpid eyes glittering. He opened one arm, oversized sleeve dangling off over his hand.

"Come give me a hug, you jerk."

Izaya felt the backs of his eyes start to sear with an entirely foreign sensation— tears. He blinked hard, but it didn't seem to help the burning. He could also feel Celty and Shinra staring at him, waiting for a reaction to the strange request— they probably expected a stinging rebuff, and all things being equal that would be the most _comfortable_ thing for all parties involved.

But Izaya was hardly about to give in to the lure of such an empty, comfortable normalcy. Shizuo had always been the unpredictable one, and for once he wanted to seize that uncertain future for himself. So he put on a genuine, twisted little smile and trotted— not a run, but measurably faster than his usual walk —to the beckoning child, dropped down fast enough to bruise his knees, and wrapped his arms around Shizuo Heiwajima.

They held one another tightly for a moment, without words, and Izaya felt Shizuo shudder violently as he inhaled.

"I'm scared..." It was scarcely a breath against Izaya's ear, and the information broker tightened his grip until it was almost painful.

"I'm still on your side, no matter what. From now on, okay? That means today and tomorrow and after that and forever, okay?"

"... Have you ever been scared?"

It wasn't a question that Izaya had expected, but it wasn't one that he shied from answering, either. "I'm scared right now, Shizu-chan. But I've still got you in my arms, so I'm okay."

The boy drew a startled breath, then whimpered and nodded into Izaya's chest. They parted for a second, but the information broker found himself so unwilling to let the moment pass that he scooped Shizuo up and held him close to his chest. Then he himself carried the boy to the apparatus of mad science that had started the whole thing, and left him there on the platform. The sight of round tears rolling down Shizuo's cheeks threatened to break the heart that he seemed to be so much more aware of as of late, but he forced himself to take several steps back.

He was surprised when the burning in his own eyes intensified to the point where he _had_ to wipe at them, only to discover the wetness gathering there and soaking his lashes.

"Do it," he told Shinra, and wondered if his voice sounded strange to everyone or just to himself.


	9. Re-Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am one of those terrible authors who very much enjoys making their readers cry... sorrynotsorry...
> 
> All your mind-blowing comments are my reason for being, and I need to convey my utmost gratitude for your readership and support up to this point!! Thank you, thank you, thank you, and I'll work hard to live up to expectations!! Q^Q

There was a blinding flash of light when the machine came to life; Izaya couldn't help but shy away from it. But when the crackling of the reaction had died down, his eyes were instantly glued to the platform. Several tears that now had proper form _as_ tears slid just briefly down his cheeks.

"Shit, that fucking _hurt_...!" Shizuo Heiwajima grumbled, tangling one hand in his soft brunette locks. "I don't remember it _hurting_...! Ah, Shinra, you sadistic bastard..."

"Well, your bones had to grow quite a bit this time!" the doctor said, sounding supremely pleased with himself. "It stands to reason that it would hurt this time!"

Shizuo made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat, then looked down to examine one of his hands. He stared at the palm for a moment, nodded, then flipped it over and held it out in front of him.

It was then that he spotted Izaya, and shifted his hand so that he had a better view of the man through his spread fingers.

The information broker wasn't crying, but he looked anxious and uncertain, and his eyes were still noticeably swollen. It was a strange expression for Shizuo to see on his face, and the would-be bartender tried hard to reconcile it with the hated enemy represented in his most recent memories.

_Most... recent...?_

But that seemed wrong.

Biting his lip, Shizuo struggled to fully grasp the situation. _Izaya... wait, he... no, no, that's... wrong...? Or... no. Wait... if he... but that means... but if... no, that can't... but if... wait. Shit. Fuck. God damnit._

It was making his head hurt.

Dropping his hand to his side, Shizuo held Izaya's sorrel gaze. The information broker wore an unbecomingly vulnerable expression, almost as if he expected something from the other— like he was waiting.

_What...? And why...? And... shit._

With an annoyed growl, Shizuo lowered his head and stood. Izaya took a step backwards, looking more uncertain than ever, but then shook his head and came forward. Part of Shizuo wanted to yell at him to stay back; to get away.

But an inexplicably larger part of him wanted to meet him halfway and open his arms; embrace the man he remembered as an enemy.

Those weren't the only memories he had now, though. His earlier— later? recent? faded? —memories seemed to conflict.

Izaya stopped a foot or so from him; he didn't move to close the gap as the informant gazed at him with an oddly broken— yet organic; natural —smile.

"I'm going to have to get used to looking _up_ at you again."

Shizuo felt his heart skip a beat, but he couldn't bring himself to return the smile. He couldn't quite bring himself to do anything; he was too confused, mired in muddled memories and staring at a man he thought he should hate.

"I... I need to think some things through."

The way that Izaya's smile _faltered_ — it threw Shizuo into something far more violent than mere confusion. He _wanted_ to embrace the other man— he _wanted_ to make that expression go away.

He wanted things to be _right_.

But if he embraced Izaya Orihara, a very convincing part of him objected, things would be very, very _wrong_ — wrong enough so that his stomach churned sickeningly at the very thought. Izaya was a dangerous, cruel, deluded individual; Izaya tormented him for his own amusement.

Izaya Orihara was his enemy.

_"I'm still on your side, no matter what. From now on, okay? That means today and tomorrow and after that and forever, okay?"_

Had that been five minutes ago? Or fifteen years ago?

_"... Have you ever been scared?"_

_"I'm scared right now, Shizu-chan. But I've still got you in my arms, so I'm okay."_

Five minutes was the answer his conscious mind was giving him, but his gut— the emotion and instinct he had always put his trust in —was insisting that it had happened half a lifetime ago. Even still, it _had_ happened, timeline be damned, and that alone was enough to throw him off. He glanced uncertainly at Shinra, who was watching the interaction intently, hoping for some sort of clue. Then he looked at Celty, again hoping and again disappointed when she looked just as confused as he was.

So he took a step back, and stuck to his guns.

"I need... to think. I need to sort things out." It was the only thing Shizuo knew for certain, and so he took another step back. Izaya didn't follow him, but did bite his lip hard and look down.

"That's... right, of course." His shoulders trembled, just briefly, and then fell still again. Then he shook his head violently, wiped angrily at his eyes with the back of one arm, and spun to face Shinra. "Make sure he's okay, alright? Who the hell knows what havoc your mad science has wreaked." And he strode toward the door, his back straight and hands stuffed into his pockets, never looking back.

Dignified, and alone in his stubborn dignity.

Half a dozen objections tried to crawl up Shizuo's throat; fought to be called out and bring the flea running back. But the would-be-bartender didn't allow any of them past his tongue, and so watched as the information broker vanished like part of an exceptionally long dream.

"Shit..." Shizuo muttered, resting his head in one hand. Shinra trotted over, looking concerned.

"Does your head hurt? That could be a sign of—"

"Shut up," Shizuo grunted. "It's not a sign of fucking anything, I'm just... confused." Then he sighed; sat down heavily on the platform where he had first been deaged, then reaged once again. It had started a week ago— he knew that for certain.

_But Izaya, he…_

"Your memories?" Celty padded over and held up the question, sitting down beside him. Shizuo nodded, pulling angrily at his hair with one hand.

"Yeah. Shit, they're all... I don't know what to believe..."

The dullahan fidgeted for a moment. "Well, you remember me and Shinra, right?"

"Yeah I do, but..." _But nothing's changed,_ he thought sullenly. _With you and Shinra and and Tom and Kasuka, nothing's changed... with Izaya, though…_

"Hate and love are actually very similar things," Shinra offered clinically. "The transition between the two might seem impossible, but it can actually be a very subtle change."

"What sort of nonsense are you spouting, Shinra?" Shizuo grumbled. "Love? What the hell does _love_ have to do with anything?"

The answer was, of course, heavy like a stone in his stomach. But he had to work through quite a few things, and he certainly wasn't ready to deal with _that particular_ thing yet.

And yet... what was more important than Izaya Orihara? He couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, think of a single thing.

... ... ...

It was a very, very long walk home.

"I'm back!" Izaya called to no one, closing the door behind him and kicking off his shoes. Slipping into his house slippers, he stared for a moment at the much smaller set lying in wait at the door.

Sighing, he forced himself up over the threshold and into his empty apartment.

His eyes were dry; his breathing was steady. But it also felt as though he had no viscera left to him— as if his stomach and intestines and heart had been gouged out by an invisible force, leaving him hollow and unfeeling. He trudged first to his couch; contemplated sitting and then decided not to. His feet carried him to his kitchen, then, and he paused at the refrigerator; opened it and saw, with an odd displeasure, just how much food Namie had stocked it with. With a dissatisfied grumble, he closed the appliance again.

_Well, we did manage to go through the whole week's worth of food last week…_

_We._

Eventually, Izaya somehow ended up sitting on his kitchen floor, back to the wall and one of his many cellphones in his hand. To him, everything was clear. The memories of the past week— or was it eight days? —were fresh and potent. They were clearly the truth— a difficult truth to grasp, but undoubtedly the truth. Things had changed, and that had to be dealt with.

But to Shizuo...

"What... what did I expect...?" he asked softly, then turned his head so that his temple was resting against the wall behind him. "Heh... shit."

... ... ...

Shizuo Heiwajima arrived home to find things dusty, but otherwise most exactly as he had left them. The milk on the counter had spoiled, though, and the first thing he did was take it out to the dumpster.

Then he groaned, giving physical vent to his frustration and exhaustion, and flopped down face-first onto his bed.

_Shit._

No matter how tired he was, he hardly expected sleep to come. His thoughts were whirling too fast, and he soon found that he couldn't even manage to close his eyes. So he rolled over, tucking his hands behind his head and arching his back off the mattress in a luxurious stretch that made every muscle in his body quiver.

It did feel good to have his body back to normal— that was something, at least.

Dropping back down, he sighed and settled in to give things a good thrashing out. He hated having to overthink things, but in this particular case it seemed to be the only thing to do. So he started with the things that he knew for certain.

_I was abused._

_"Monster!"_

_"Who in their right mind would accept a_ monster _for a son?"_

_"She's terrified of you."_

_"So you're a little monster?"_ It was Izaya's voice. _"Well guess what, Shizu-brat: everyone already knows that, and you have people who inexplicably care about you anyway. So stop sulking and come out._

_"No one's going to hit you."_

Shizuo fidgeted. _That happened... not so many years ago... but just..._

_"Give me one good reason why I should feed a monster."_

That was Izaya, too. That fit better with the image of the flea that Shizuo was most comfortable with, and it made his stomach churn with resentment.

_"I'm going to sic your own company on you after this is all over to get back what I'm spending on you."_

Right— he had been put out about the whole situation. He had never wanted to take care of a damaged child.

_"Now, I've slaved over a hot microwave for five whole minutes to get it perfect for you. So please, enjoy!"_

But... they had laughed together, hadn't they? Izaya had... for the sake of dragging laughter from a distressed child... for the sake...

Shizuo groaned, closing his eyes for a moment and trying to refocus.

_"Are you still mad at me for pinning that crime on you?"_

_"And here I thought we could have some fun together..."_

_"I love all of humanity, true, but you are clearly not human. You, Shizu-chan, are an unpredictable monster, and I can't possibly love such a monster."_

__... __

_"You're no more of a monster than me, Shizu-chan."_

Shizuo touched his forehead with his fingertips, remembering a kiss pressed there. _No one... has ever... before..._

But Izaya _had._ He remembered being carried around on the information dealer's shoulders; remembered being toted around on his hip. He remembered being kissed on the forehead and held tightly to his chest in an exhilarating, comforting embrace. He remembered returning those embraces, clinging to Izaya and feeling perfectly safe in doing so.

It didn't make any sense.

_"Izaya... he's been really... good, about the whole thing. I want to see it out with him."_ Those were _his_ words, inexplicably. He remembered saying them to Tom. And how had Izaya looked when he had chosen to stay?

Relieved— amazed and relieved.

_Shit._

Izaya, the bastard who had tried to kill him too many times to count; who sicced small-time criminals on him just for the fun of it; who actively enjoyed mucking up his life at every opportunity.

_"You will_ not _raise a hand against Shizuo Heiwajima. If you go after him, I'll take you apart piece by worthless, incompetent piece. And spread the word amongst your scummy little layer of society._

_"No one hassles Shizuo Heiwajima, in Shinjuku or 'Bukuro, without answering to me, got it?"_

It didn't make any sense.

"Ahh... shit."

... ... ...

[ _You made too much food, you know._ ]

[ _That isn't my problem._ ]

Izaya smiled twistedly down at his phone. It was a strange desperation that had made him initiate the text conversation— the desire for any sort of contact amid his devastatingly empty apartment. He had been sitting in silence on his kitchen floor for nearly an hour; he had to do _something_.

[ _It clearly is._ ]

[ _So what do you expect ME to do about it?_ ]

[ _Come over for diner._ ]

[ _I refuse._ ]

[ _So heartless, Namie-dear!_ ・(/Д`)・] Izaya tried to convince himself that he sounded pouty, not pathetic. [ _Even gods like me get lonely from time to time, you know!_ ]

[ _It isn't me you're lonely for, and you know it._ ]

The text hit Izaya square in the chest, and with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs. He choked quietly, that burning sensation appearing behind his eyes again.

"I know that..." he mumbled, grip tightening on his phone. "But what the hell am I supposed to do about it...?!"

[ _So text HIM, you idiot, and stop bothering me off the clock._ ]

... ... ... 

Shizuo hadn't made any major headway by the time his cellphone— lying forgotten on his bedside table, and luckily plugged in —buzzed.

For a moment, he considered ignoring it. But in the end he groaned, flipped onto his side, and picked up the mobile device. He winced at the sheer volume of missed calls and texts— a week was a long time in many ways, he was discovering —but was most concerned with the one that had come through seconds before.

[ _Hey._ ]

"'Hey...?'" Shizuo echoed in disbelief, and then gave a breathy chuckle. "What kind of lame..."

[ _What, Flea?_ ] He didn't have the number in his directory, but somehow or other he just knew.

[ _Namie made too much food again. Come over and help me eat it._ ]

Shizuo paused. He knew that, if he said no, they would be well on their way to ending whatever strange thing had sprung up between them. If he wanted to cut if off, this was a prime chance. Things would go back to normal... perhaps. Not that he knew what normal was, exactly, but he sort of did want the _feeling_ of normal back.

If he said yes, he didn't know what would happen.

_"Who was that?"_

_"Shinra. He says that damn machine of his is fixed."_

_"Oh."_

_"'Oh?' I expected you to be excited."_

_"I am, but..."_

_"Yeah... Yeah. I get it."_

_"Are we going to go back to the way we were?"_

_"I don't think we could if we wanted to."_

_"... Good."_

He didn't know, but...

It hurt his head to think about it, but...

Izaya should have been his enemy, but...

[ _Fine. But ONLY because all I've got here is dusty cup ramen, and I'm not up to going grocery shopping._ ]

... ... ... 

Izaya couldn't remember being so nervous in his life. He couldn't sit still, despite the way his feet ached from pacing; he couldn't seem to catch his breath.

The idea of losing what he had gained with Shizuo was almost too much to contemplate. The whole of humanity paled in comparison. He didn't know what was going to happen, and that in and of itself terrified him.

When the knock came, he tried to scrounge together some amount of composure. "Just let yourself in," he called, even as he hurried into the kitchen to fetch their supper.

The door opened; closed. Then, "There's only one pair of house slippers out here, and I'm pretty sure they won't fit."

Izaya felt an oddly painful laugh bubbling up his throat, and shook his head hard to banish it. "Don't worry about it." _I'll get another pair as soon as I can._ He almost said it, but stopped just short. "I'm sure your feet aren't intolerably dirty. Besides, Namie takes care of the floors, not me

There was a moment of silence as Izaya returned to the table, putting the food down, but then Shizuo poked his head uncertainly around the corner. It was a strange sight: he was back to his normal height and had his sunglasses sitting low on his nose, but his hair was still that downy brunette; his eyes shadowed with a childish vulnerability.

Love could be indistinct— a manic, detached, obsessive thing, like what Izaya Orihara felt for all his little humans; he did still possess that feeling.

Or love could be colorful and concrete, so overwhelming that it ate away at everything else until one wished they could be free of it; love could be organic and ever-changing, wrought with uncertainty and pain and joy and fear and burning longing that manifested in searing tears behind sore eyeballs.

That was the kind of love that Izaya Orihara felt for Shizuo— his Shizuo Heiwajima-chan; his monster.

"Welcome back."

Shizuo looked at him for a moment, then grunted. "This is stupid..." he mumbled, flopping down into a dining room chair. Izaya blinked, trying to decide whether to be hurt or not.

"What's stupid?"

"This!" Shizuo exclaimed, motioning wildly with one hand and nearly knocking over the glass of milk that had been set out for him. "This... this sentimentality, this tip-toeing around, th-this... this damn confusion about the whole thing!"

"I know you've never had patience for complex situations," Izaya said, almost apologetically, and Shizuo leaned back.

"Damn right." Then he took off his sunglasses, tucking them into his vest and shaking his head slightly. "Sit down. You're making me nervous."

Izaya hurriedly took his own seat, picking up a pair of chopsticks and motioning to Shizuo's plate. "N-No more thinking, then. Eat."

Shizuo regarded him with something slightly less severe than mistrust. "... You... reheated this, right?"

And Izaya's answering smile was almost stunningly bright. "Of course!"

... ... ... 

The food was eaten mostly in silence, with a few inconsequential words exchanged. But it was enough, perhaps, that no argument had broken out; that they had both, at one point or other, laughed honestly.

"You know that things are never going to be the same."

Izaya nodded. "I know."

"They're not going to be like they were before, and they're not going to be like they have been for the past week."

Again the informant nodded. "Right. Neither of us knew what was going to happen, and that was fine. Right?"

"Right." Shizuo sighed— a bit angrily, but more tiredly than anything. "Right. Uncertainty sucks, doesn't it?"

"You do remember everything?" Izaya asked abruptly, his voice a bit strained. "You do, right?"

"It's all there..." Shizuo murmured. "A bit jumbled, but it's all there. Okay, so more than a bit jumbled, but... yeah, I'm pretty sure everything's there."

And the information broker nodded jerkily, turning away. "Okay. Take as much time as you need, then. Just... try to sort through it, okay? Because... I..."

And the debt collector nodded, reaching over and resting one large hand on Izaya's shoulder just briefly before letting it slide back off. It felt strange to touch him— good, perhaps, but too strange to tolerate for more than a moment. "I know. And I'll…

"Yeah, we'll figure it out, Flea."


	10. I think...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE CHAPTER! (plus the epilogue, which is still quite important :P) 
> 
> I was nervous about this one. Still am, just a bit. I want quite desperately to get it right, and I do hope I succeeded at least a bit. ^^;; 
> 
> A million and one-- a million and two, three, four! --thanks to those who have reviewed and left kudos thus far! YOU are the reason this fic has gotten this far, and I owe you all bits of my soul. <3

Izaya couldn't get to sleep.

He tried lying on his back; he tried first one side, then the other; he flipped onto his belly with his face buried in his pillow until he could hardly breathe. He got up and paced; he settled into his desk chair to see if he could drift off there. He turned on the TV, the computer, and two different radio stations on two different cell phones; turned them all off again when he felt like he was about to go mad.

And eventually he ended up back in his bed, staring furiously at the ceiling and wondering why his eyes hurt so badly.

... ... ...

The bed felt unnaturally cold.

Shizuo wasn't quite as sleepless as the information broker who was haunting his thoughts, but his slumber was fitful at best. He kept waking up; he couldn't seem to stop shivering, and it appeared to him that the twin-sized mattress he had slept on for years was much too big.

Empty.

_"Would you stay with me tonight...?"_

Had he really asked that?

_"Futons really are murder on my back, you know..."_

_"You fall asleep in your desk chair all the time."_

_"Now now, you didn't hear me out._

_"You're coming back to bed with me, alright?"_

And had Izaya really...?

Izaya's bed— it was warm; large but warm, and comfortable. At least, that was how he remembered it. As skittish as he was about his memories, he wasn't quite sure.

But perhaps...

He glanced at his phone, sitting silent on the beside table. It was almost three in the morning.

_What if... he can't... either...?_

[ _You still awake?_ ] He didn't give himself a chance to second-guess the text, just braced himself and hit send. Reply or no reply, he would have his answer.

And then, less than a minute later, [ _Yep. Annoyingly so._ ]

That dragged a smile to Shizuo's face. He could just picture the informant's put-upon, sour grin, annoyed to be awake but pleased to be asked if he was. And so Shizuo rolled onto his stomach, holding the phone propped up on his pillow.

[ _Same. Obviously._ ]

[ _Want to come over?_ ]

Shizuo paused, but not for as long as he could have. _'Want...' not 'should...' not how things 'should' be, but..._

The answer, jumbled memories be damned, was obvious.

[ _Yeah, I do. I'll be over in a few._ ]

... ... ...

Izaya met him at the door.

They were both already clad in their respective pajamas.

"I got a new pair of house-slippers for you," was the first thing the host said, and the guest managed a smile.

"Thanks. Those'll come in handy."

The two of them padded into the apartment side by side, and paused when they passed the room where the child had stayed for close to a week. They glanced at one another; Izaya gave a sheepish, somewhat pleading smirk. Shizuo saw his hand flex at his side, and had the strangest urge to grab and hold onto it.

"Come on," he grunted, continuing on towards Izaya's bedroom. The information broker's smirk dissolved into a glowing smile, and he trotted to catch up with the other.

Shizuo felt his hand caught; held. And he didn't pull away, instead tangling his fingers more firmly with Izaya's.

Their lives were already irreparably tangled; why not their hands?

It felt right.

The bed itself posed another dilemma. The two of them stared at it for a moment, minds running along similar tracks. The most comfortable position to start out with would, undoubtedly, be back to back.

But what was the point of starting with a "comfortable" setup that neither of them really believed would do the trick?

At first they both watched each other for unspoken signals— they could read each other like no one else, after all. But both relaxed when they realized they had reached the same conclusion anyway. And as they settled in face-to-face, Izaya pulling the blankets up around both of them, Shizuo wriggled down until he was at the right level to snuggle into Izaya's chest.

"Is this okay?"

"It's wonderful..." the information broker murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around the larger man.

"Yeah... it is."

"Goodnight, Shizu-chan."

"... 'Night, Flea."

... … … 

Shizuo woke up with an overwhelming sense of well-being; of safety.

He was still wrapped in Izaya's arms.

"Good morning."

"Nnf... 'mornin'..."

But it was Izaya Orihara he was dealing with, he reminded himself, and Shizuo couldn’t help but have second thoughts— and after that third and fourth thoughts. They sat up; stretched; exchanged sleepy smiles. They took amicable turns at the bathroom sink, as though _this_ was the comfortable routine they had lived out for years and years.

_But do I really want to bind myself... to someone like this...? To someone like Izaya...?_

Even _if_ he could assume that the information broker wouldn't be cruel to _him_ anymore— and that was a big ‘if’ —did he really want someone like Izaya in his life? And if the answer _was_ yes, then in what regard?

_"You're no more of a monster than me."_

Yet they were already involved, and the shape of that involvement had already changed; was still changing. There was no turning back, no matter how comforting that option might be to contemplate.

There really was only forward.

"Hey, Flea?"

Izaya turned, and for a moment there was no history between them. For a moment it was just emotion, not conscious memory; and crystal clear emotion, no less.

"We're both in this for the long run, right?"

Izaya smiled. "Of course! We'll figure it out, you know? We've been together for so long in some way or another, we've got to be able to get it right. Don't you think?"

And Shizuo felt himself relax, totally. He felt safe; accepted; and more than anything, he felt optimistic.

"There are going to be problems."

"Doesn't matter," Izaya quipped cheerfully. "We aren't your everyday people, Shizu-chan. In case you haven't noticed, we're both quite special."

"Monsters, you mean?" the other asked quietly, and Izaya's smile softened.

"In the best possible meaning of the word."

Shizuo scoffed. "Fine... fine, maybe you're right. Let's assume you're right. But this is..."

"... uncharted territory?" Izaya supplied.

"Yeah, that." Shizuo didn't like trying to put such difficult things into words, but in this case it had to be done. "We... you know, had something before... and then... we ended up with something different over the past week. Now we have to try again."

"Hopefully it'll stick this time," Izaya said simply. "Third time's the charm, right?"

Shizuo growled softly, but he was smiling. "Right."

"Then that's that. Now sit down!" the informant commanded. "I'll get breakfast."

Shizuo obeyed, silently wondering about such mundane things as whether he had remembered a change of clothes. _I should ask Izaya if I can keep some here... if this is going to be a regular thing..._

Somehow, he suspected it was going to be.

"Here we are!" Izaya called upon returning. Shizuo grumbled his thanks as several dishes were set in front of him. "You don't have to worry about anything, you know. I'll look out for you from now on. I'll make sure you're n-never... never hungry or lonely or afraid again. I'll take care of all that."

"I don't really need someone to look after me," Shizuo said, then added, "I'm not a child." But it wasn't an admonishment— just something like a gentle reminder.

Izaya's smile wilted a bit. "Right... I-I know that, I do..."

Shizuo drew a deliberate breath, wondering why his anger wasn't sparking up at being treated in such a way. _Maybe... maybe I do... kind of_ like _being coddled... a-a little..._ he admitted to himself grudgingly, although it was something he would never say aloud, _but he at least needs to treat me like a damn equal. He always did before... that was one thing I actually_ liked _about how our relationship used to be..._

"Right. Well, try not to space on it."

"Right. Sorry."

It was uncharacteristic to hear Izaya apologize, and Shizuo softened. "It's not that big a deal."

"I feel like everything's a big deal at this point," the informant replied uneasily, then laughed. "I don't want to fuck up."

And Shizuo smiled an honest smile up at him. "Neither do I, Flea."

Izaya chuckled, looking uncomfortable in every sense of the word. "Why are fake emotions so easy and real ones so hard...?" he lamented softly, then grinned a lopsided grin at Shizuo. "I've never been worried about fucking something like this up before."

"Relationships are... weird," Shizuo acknowledged, knotting one hand in his brunette hair with a sigh. He scratched at the back of his head furiously for a moment, then let his hand drop back down. "Yeah... they're tough."

Izaya pulled out his chair, but hesitated as he went to sit down. Then he walked slowly around the table; Shizuo kept a somewhat wary eye on him, but didn't make a move to stand.

"What's up?" the would-be-bartender asked, tilting his head. Izaya looked at him for a long moment, then moved forward.

"Can I still... do this...?" he asked softly, brushing Shizuo's chestnut bangs back with one hand and leaning down to press his lips to the other's forehead.

Shizuo stiffened, feeling something hot build in his stomach. And a wild idea occurred to him as Izaya straightened back up, waiting for an answer. He stood slowly; he was taller than the flea, he observed, and decided that that did seem a bit backwards.

"Sure..." he said, "I don't really mind. But let's try it like this, too..." And he leaned down, pressing his lips chastely— if not entirely quickly —to Izaya's.

The information broker's eyes widened with astonishment, and he stared up at Shizuo as the brunette drew back. The taller man didn't _look_ as confident as he had sounded, his cheeks powdered with pink and his eyes flicking to anything that wasn't Izaya's face.

And the informant found that he had to laugh, for Shizuo looked like nothing more than a nervous child. He moved forward, tangling his hands in the would-be-bartender's nightshirt and resting his head against his broad chest.

"Okay..." he whispered. "Let's try it like that, too."

Shizuo didn't think too much, just wrapped one arm around the smaller body; held Izaya close as he stared into the distance.

"Hey, Flea?"

"What?"

"I think... I might not hate you."

Izaya laughed softly. "That's good to know."

"I think I might love you."

"And I'm pretty sure I love you too, Shizu-chan."


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EPILOGUE TIME! And here come the tears. I will miss writing this fic, but I certainly intend to stick around in the fandom for a good while. In case anyone's interested, I'm always open to any prompts or suggestions you might have~ 
> 
> The reception for this fic has really surpassed anything I expected, and I'm so incredibly honored! Thank you so much to anyone who’s lent me their time and ears in reading this fic, and my eternal gratitude to those who left comments and/or kudos along the way. We’ve reached this point because of you. <3 
> 
> And a very special and emphatic thank you to my OP over on the meme! Thank you for the incredible prompt-- I had a blast working with it, and I do earnestly hope that you enjoyed the result! 
> 
> With (all) that said, without further ado, one last THANK YOU for your readership, and please enjoy the epilogue of Ember.

2 Months Later 

"So you two are moving in together? That's fantastic! Congratulations!"

Kasuka smiled a ghost of a smile, his hand tightening on Ruri's. "Thank you, Nii-san."

Shizuo's grin broadened. "This family just keeps getting more and more interesting."

"I-I'm... I'm happy to be a part of it," Ruri said softly, then added hesitantly, "... Nii-san?"

Shizuo's face lit up. "I'm glad!" Then he ducked his head slightly. "If there's anything I can do... I haven't had much to do as an older brother for a while... You're just so damn independent," he added sorely to Kasuka. "Can't you need me a little bit more?"

Again, that ghost of a smile. "You know I need you, Nii-san."

"Wonder what Mom and the old man would say..." Shizuo murmured reflectively, his eyes distant as he looked at Ruri. There was something of himself in the girl; something he couldn't put his finger on. She twitched under his scrutiny and he, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, looked away.

"They'd probably say that there's no hope for me now," Kasuka observed, "surrounded by monsters as I am.

"We'll have to go visit them one of these days, the three of us, and see if we can't feel them rolling around in their graves beneath our feet."

Shizuo blinked, startled and unsure of his own hearing. Ruri looked just as surprised, but in the same breath Kasuka was saying something about his latest movie coming out at the end of the month, and the conversation continued on.

But his strangely morbid proposal hung in the air like the scent of death-- cloying, although not entirely unwelcome.

... ... ... 

[ _I have a gap in my schedule for the next couple of hours, right?_ (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))]

[ _Technically._ ]

[ _Technically smechnically!_ (･｀ｪ´･)つ]

[ _You have somewhere you should be, and you know it._ ]

[ _It’s your job to keep track of my PROFESSIONAL life, dear Namie, not my personal one._ ]

[ _As long as I do the cooking for the BOTH of you, I WILL concern myself with your relationship status._ ]

[ _My schedule has nothing to do with our relationship status..._ (¬､¬)]

[ _Believe it or not, keeping or not keeping dates CAN affect the status of a relationship…_ ]

[ _If it wasn’t against my policy to turn my phone off, I swear…_ -`д´-]

[ _I’m actually trying to help, you know._ ]

[ _Well stop!_

_As your employer, I command you!_ (･｀ｪ´･)つ]

[ _No._ ]

[(ﾉ｀△´)ﾉ~┻━┻]

[(ヘ･_･)ヘ┳━┳]

... ... ... 

"Shizuo!"

The brunette turned at the shout of his name; saw Shinra sprinting across the busy street to come meet him. He waited obligingly, and was duly surprised when the doctor thumped him firmly in the chest with a none-too-gentle punch.

"How're those lungs feeling?" he asked with a grin, which faltered as Shizuo grabbed his shoulder.

"Did you really just punch me?"

"Y-Yes...?"

Shizuo stared down at him for a heartbeat longer, enjoying the way that his friend began to sweat nervously, then dropped the handful of lab coat he had grabbed. "You're lucky I'm not so easily hurt."

Shinra's smile widened again with relief, and he fell in beside Shizuo as the brunette began to walk. "Seriously, though!" he chirped. "Was I wrong to be on your back about quitting this entire time?"

Shizuo shrugged. "It's not that big a difference..."

"But there is a difference," Shinra pressed triumphantly, and the other growled.

"You should stop rubbing it in people's faces when you're right, Shinra."

"So you admit I was right!" the doctor crowed, and then punched his friend in the shoulder. "Ha! Haha! You know, you really should thank me for accidentally de-aging you. Not only did you get to reexperience the simpler times of your youth, but you were able to cast off the vice known as nicotine!"

"A week without it broke the habit, that's all," Shizuo grunted noncommittally. "I could've done that on my own if I'd really wanted to."

"Addictions aren't just physical," Shinra informed him seriously. "You haven't been nearly as stressed lately— I think that has a lot to do with it, too."

"Who says I haven't been as stressed?" Shizuo growled. "My life _is_ stress."

"Well, with Izaya—"

"Literally anything that involves him _is_ stress. He's stress _incarnate_ , the damn flea."

"True..." Shinra laughed. "I guess that's true enough."

"Do you know how hard it is keeping him on somewhat of a leash?” Shizuo continued exasperatedly. “I mean _not_ going off the god-complex deep end and _not_ wrecking people's lives just for the hell of it? Talk about me swearing off nicotine— have you ever tried getting _him_ to swear off his little games?!" 

"Can't say I have."

"Well it's fucking impossible!"

Shinra smiled— it was a knowing smile, but also somewhat sympathetic. "Sorry to hear that."

"I look away for one goddamn second..."

"Mm..."

"... and he's back at it!"

"Kind of like dealing with a wayward child, hmm?"

"Exactly!" The would-be-bartender growled softly, running one hand through his hair.

"I'll betcha he isn't exactly the lowest-maintenance boyfriend either, right?" Shinra asked, a touch playfully.

To Shizuo, however, it wasn't a joke— it was a migraine-inducing reality. "You have no fucking idea... and then he doesn't even—!" He broke off mid-rant, then slowed; stopped, and cracked his knuckles. "Speaking of... guess who stood me up just this morning?"

Shinra followed his friend's gaze to spot one Izaya Orihara, looking almost sinfully comfortable lounging on a coffee shop patio. He had his feet up on the table, and was sipping something that was most likely more expensive than it should have been.

"Have fun!" Shinra called, waving cheerfully as Shizuo stormed off in the direction of the innocent cafe.

"Iiiiiiiii-zaaaaa-yaaaaaaa!"

The information broker promptly spilled his coffee, feet falling from the table with a clatter. When he spun around, he was smiling a nervous smile— a delighted grin, but one that made it clear he knew he was in trouble.

"Sh-Shizu-chan! Hiii...!"

And then he was off, bolting down the street— but not quite fast enough. Shizuo caught the back of his fur-trimmed jacket, dragging him backwards into a rough embrace that was half-headlock.

"Have I told you recently how _delighted_ I am that you decided to stay with brunette?" Izaya whispered— all he could manage with his throat slightly crushed. "It looks so wonderful on you...!"

"Where the hell were you this morning, Flea?" Shizuo asked, a cheerful expression plastered across his face— contrasting with the cruel glint in his eyes. Izaya's own smile faltered.

"With a client..."

"And _not_ at my apartment where you said you'd meet me?"

"No..."

Shizuo held tightly to his captive for another moment, then growled softly and released the information broker. "It's really not okay to stand me up, you know."

"But I made so much money this morning!" Izaya said defensively, emboldened by finding himself free. He stood on his tiptoes, both hands on one of Shizuo's shoulders, then dropped back down and tugged at the other's arm. "C'mon, I'll make it up to you! Let's go blow it _all_ on lunch somewhere! Russia Sushi? Or maybe that Sukiyaki place down the street! Or that really fancy restaurant that just went in down on Sunshine? C'mon, Shizu-chaaan!"

Izaya had always enjoyed spending an unnecessary amount of money on himself. But for some reason he couldn't put his finger on, he liked spending money on Shizuo Heiwajima much more.

"Forgive meeeee...!"

Shizuo, as of yet unmoved— physically or otherwise —by Izaya's appeals, sighed softly. Shifting the arm that Izaya was pulling on, he dragged the struggling information broker closer, then lifted him clean off the ground, flailing feet and shouted objections and all. Only then did he crack an indulgent smile.

"You're lucky I don't slam your head into the concrete, Flea."

The informant laughed nervously, clinging more tightly to Shizuo's arm as he let his lower body go limp. "I am."

"Damn straight."

Izaya was set back on his feet, obligingly letting go of Shizuo, and they fell into step beside one another as they began to walk. The informant, his steps light, was the first one to pick up a thread of conversation.

"How's your day going? You have off from work, right?"

"Yeah. Went to visit Kasuka." Shizuo smiled unconsciously. "He and Ruri are officially moving in together."

"That's adorable!" Izaya exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Oh, they do so suit each other! A monster for a monster, isn't that right?"

"That's how it worked out for us. But Kasuka isn't a monster," Shizuo added, a trace of warning in his voice. Izaya's expression softened.

"Right. Of course not."

"Who was the client this morning? Anyone I know?"

Izaya shrugged. "Just Shiki. And a pretty uninteresting bit of business, as it was. Profitable, but uninteresting."

"Pity. I know how much you hate boredom."

"You always keep me from getting _too_ bored, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo shoved him roughly in the shoulder, making him stumble. "You can count on that, Flea."

Izaya grinned playfully at him, skipping a few steps ahead. "And I do, my precious Shizu-chan~"

Shizuo made a half-hearted swipe to grab him, but the informant dodged easily. One minute they were walking; the next, a casual sort of prance— on Izaya's part —and jog— on Shizuo's. Within minutes they were both racing down the street at full speed, Izaya's coat streaming out behind him and Shizuo shouting at him to " _come the fuck back here, Flea! I'm not done with you!_ "

And they were both smiling.

The days of thrown vending machines weren't at all past, and bystanders took cover as the two of them indulged in a long and convoluted chase through the streets of Ikebukuro. But eventually Izaya slowed, making a hamish show of being out of breath, and Shizuo stopped beside him.

"I was serious about lunch," the information broker informed him crossly, suddenly able to breath perfectly fine and pulling again at Shizuo's sleeve. Then he gave up, looping his arms around the brunette's waist tightly and staying there, pouting, "You never eat enough when I'm not buying. I worry!"

Shizuo scoffed. "I'm eating fine. I just don't have the money to blow on fancy meals like some people do," he said, ruffling the shorter man's hair fondly. "Some of us have to worry about mundane things like _rent_ , you stupid flea."

But Izaya had sobered, his eyes clearing. And when he spoke it was as though he had reached a blatantly obvious conclusion.

"Move in with me."

"What?" Shizuo asked, still a light-hearted growl, but he stalled when Izaya looked up at him with overly-earnest eyes.

"Move in with me. You won't have to worry about rent, then." Eyes still eerily clear, a smile broke out on his face. "Shizu-chan, let's move in together!"

The would-be-bartender wrinkled his nose. "What the hell's gotten into you?" he asked. "Was it what I was telling you earlier about Kasuka and—"

"No, no, think about it!" Izaya cut him off, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, arms still looped around the other. "You already sleep at my place— what? Five, six nights a week? A-And I have plenty of space, _way_ more than I need! You could take over the guest bedroom for... for a personal space, and we could share the master, and—"

"Izaya, this isn't a spur-of-the-moment sort of decision..." This time it was Shizuo who cut _him_ off, although not harshly.

"But it _isn't_ spur-of-the-moment!" Izaya objected. "We haven't really discussed it, but can't you see? With the way we've been living, it's an inevitability!"

"Maybe..." the other admitted, fidgeting, "but this is still..."

They stared at each other for a moment, Izaya with sparkling eyes and Shizuo with an uncertain grimace. But before the almost-argument could continue, two girls materialized seemingly out of nowhere, one on either side of the pair.

"Lovers' quarrel!"

"It's a lovers' quarrel!"

"We found ourselves a lover's quarrel!"

"How adorable!"

Shizuo nearly jumped out of his skin, and Izaya burst out laughing at his outraged look as the two girls began to circle them with borderline predatory looks.

"I knew it!" one of them crowed. "I knew it all along! You two were made for each other!"

"True love is impossible to escape, no matter what!" the other added. "Just ask my Seiji!"

"Stop harassing them, you two," Kadota spoke up, stepping up onto the sidewalk with Togusa, Walker, and Seiji Yagiri in tow. Immediately one of the girls broke away, padding up to the later.

"Seiji, aren't they just precious? They do look like they belong together, don't they?"

The stoic boy nodded seriously. "I approve. Congratulations, you two."

"Can we get a kiss for your adoring fans?" Erika asked sweetly, camera phone out obnoxiously.

Izaya's amused smirk was fading into a grimace; Shizuo, noticing his partner's sour expression, suddenly didn't mind the situation nearly as much.

"Sure thing, Karisawa-san."

"W-W-Wait, Shizu-chan!!" Izaya spluttered, finding himself trapped by strong arms— one looped around the small of his back and the other hand gripping his hair. Then their lips were pressed together, much to Erika's shrieked delight, and Izaya gave up on fighting it.

"Never thought I'd see the day..." Kadota muttered, seeming torn about whether or not to look away.

"That Erika was right about one of her BL pairings?" Walker guessed, and his friend laughed.

"That those to two morons..." he trailed off with a chuckle. "Well, it turned out alright, I guess."

"True love is such a wonderful thing!" Mika gushed, then turned and exclaimed, "Oh Seiji, kiss me!"

"Very well," her boyfriend replied, and Saburo took an uncomfortable step back as they locked lips as well.

"When did this damn city get so obsessed with love...?" Kadota asked no one in particular, then laughed again and grabbed Erika by the back of the dress. "Come on, we have places to be."

"But— but— but—!!"

"You got your photo-op. Now leave them in peace."

"Bye-bye!" Walker called cheerfully as the small gang departed, and Shizuo waved back as he released Izaya from the suffocatingly tight embrace. The information broker stared up at him, blushing, out of breath, and indignant.

"Those pictures will be all over the internet within an hour!" he complained, and the brunette laughed.

"Stop. Everyone already knows anyway."

"You shouldn't hide true love!" Mika piped up, her own face flushed a pretty shade of pink. "You should proclaim it— share it with the world! Isn't that right, Seiji?"

"Right."

"So you two are moving in together?" the girl asked, and Shizuo and Izaya exchanged an uncertain look, reminded of their earlier almost-argument. "It's about time."

"We haven't decided that yet," Shizuo said, and the girl looked duly surprised.

"Why not? You already sleep there up to six times a week— last week it was seven days in a row!"

Izaya stiffened, offended on the deepest possible level by the idea of someone beating him at his own intel-gathering game. "How the hell did you—?"

"I have ways," Mika said flippantly, then pressed ahead. "So what are you waiting for? Living together can be scary, but you guys are already in so deep that you should feel some amount of certainty it'll work. Couples are known to take that leap with much less assurance. And besides," she added, with a bright smile, "you both love each other, right? So it'll work!"

Mika would have been content to leave it at that, waving cheerily and turning to follow Kadota and his group, but Seiji paused before following her. He looked the couple up and down— focused on the way that they, thrust into such an uncomfortable situation, had automatically— if discreetly —clasped hands; the way that Izaya had placed himself just barely one step in front of Shizuo— protectively.

"You're both trying hard to make this work," he observed. "So have faith in one another. Your love is stronger than your fear of the future." Then he dipped his head, turning and catching up with Mika, who met him with gushing praise for his wise words.

Shizuo felt Izaya's smaller hand flex in his. And when he opened his mouth to speak, the information broker turned to him, cutting him off.

"We don't have to talk about it now." Izaya's eyes were closed, his smile honest. But when he looked forward again, opening his eyes, Shizuo saw the uncertainty there— the fear, as Seiji had called it so accurately, of the future. "For now, let's just argue about a place to eat lunch."

And Shizuo, with a soft sigh, agreed.

... ... ... 

"Izaya?"

"Hmm...?"

Shizuo lay with his head on Izaya's chest— a strange position, considering their size difference, but a very comfortable one for them both. Izaya was running one hand through the soft brunette locks that he had convinced the other not to bleach again.

"Let's move in together."

Izaya's hand stilled, and he pushed himself up on his elbows so he could stare down at the other. But Shizuo didn't raise his head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah..." Shizuo said, sounding somewhat resigned. "You know, what that creepy chick Harima said is... it's true. And Yagiri nailed it, too."

"I don't want us to do this because of what other people are saying," Izaya said, suddenly defensive. "We have to figure this out in our own way if we want it to last this time."

"'Last?'" Shizuo echoed thoughtfully. "We've been taking it slow— second guessing —for two months now. It's getting old, Flea."

"But—" the informant began to object, only to stop when Shizuo craned his neck to meet his sorrel gaze.

"Let's move in together. I'm done with the uncertainty and the over thinking. Let's just do it."

Izaya hesitated, but then a crooked smile melted into place. "That's so... like you. Alright, Shizu-chan. If that's what you really want, we'll give it a shot."

"We won't just 'give it a shot,'" Shizuo growled, getting halfway up so that he could press a chaste kiss to Izaya's startled lips. "We'll make it work. Right?"

"Right..." the information broker sighed, then reached out and grabbed his partner, holding him tightly and then kissing him— first his hair and then his forehead and finally his lips. The last one lengthened, until tongues were involved and both of them could taste something salty. When they parted, Izaya whispered, "I love you," shaking his head slightly.

Shizuo smiled. "I love you too, Flea. That's why this'll work."

"I never thought love could be so terrifying..." the once-detached information broker admitted wryly, closing his eyes tightly against the tears that were threatening. "I thought death was the only thing that could scare me, but..."

"It'll work..." Shizuo repeated, bundling the information broker close to his chest. "I promise. You don't need to be afraid."

"Stop it..." Izaya objected, with a weak laugh. "I'm supposed to be the one comforting you, you know..."

"Shut up. It's a two-way street now, Flea. That's the way love works."

“... Right. I guess… yeah. Then I won’t be scared if you aren’t, got it?”

“Got it. I’m not scared, Izaya. Not as long as I’ve got you in my arms.”

“... You stole that from me.”

“Yeah. I guess you do say something that’s worth repeating, at least once in awhile.”

♡♡♡ 


End file.
